


A.I. am Human

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Isolation, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-05-03 04:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 111,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: When darkness and peril suddenly falls over Eos, Prompto Argentum - a friendly, advanced humanoid robot serving as mascot for the world-famous Argentum Aquatic Centre - finds himself alone in the aquarium for ten years, abandoned in the only home he has ever known. One fateful evening, an unexpected visitor sets his ongoing daily schedule asunder, turning his entire world - and everything he has ever known - upside down.Beyond the aquarium walls, the mysterious stranger shows Prompto that there is more to life than what lay within these walls - and that there is more to himself than mere customer service programming. Together, Prompto learns about the world, friendship, love, and most importantly, what it means to be ‘human’.





	1. ANOMALY

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is at long last - my huge love letter to both Promnis and robots that I've been working on since July 2017, as well as my first multi-chapter story! This was originally supposed to have been a part of the Promnised Land Big Bang, but it got too long and couldn’t be finished in time. It's still a work in progress, but I'm excited to finally start sharing it with everyone!
> 
> This story was inspired by all of my favourite media involving artificial intelligence/robots, and mainly exists because I just... love robots, okay?! (and Promnis. That too.) The title is an homage to the song "A.I. am Human" by Monkey Majik, which is not only fantastic, but whose English version lyrics played a vital role in helping me come up with the initial idea in the first place. (it could totally be the opening theme song if this fic was an anime, lol).

****

_(This breathtaking, amazing, absolutely gorgeous cover art was commissioned from the wonderful[Del!](http://delborovic.tumblr.com/)<3)_

 

**DATA LOG #1: ANOMALY**

 

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 5:00AM: HIBERNATION MODE DEACTIVATED.**

Eyes opened slowly, circuits brimming with energy as circular blue lenses expanded and minimized until they had adjusted accordingly to his field of vision. Every morning, his surroundings were the same: darkness. A whole lot of it, though it was only temporary. He reached for the latch inside of his ‘room’, or rather, his ‘hibernation pod’, then pressed his hand against the door to force it open. Light from the open hallway on the other side pooled in, making his lenses expand and minimize all over again to compensate.

He looked down at his right wrist. Various cables connected to the ports embedded in his skin around the underside until he popped them out one by one, no longer needing them connected for his next task. It was a brand new day. He didn’t need to hibernate anymore, and he’d finished uploading the required data from the previous day to the server’s queue.  He hung the wires neatly along the hooks lining the wall, ensuring they would be ready for use again later that evening. Stepping out of the ‘pod’, he walked down the small hallway until he saw the area behind the Guest Services, also known as reception, desk. _Good morning, Directive Zone,_ he thought, taking in the all too familiar sights of his workplace.

His task scheduling program was running right on time. Just as he predicted, the next system message spoke clearly in his mind in that familiar robotic voice that brought him comfort in his day to day life, as if it were a fellow AI companion.

**WELCOME TO THE ARGENTUM INTRANET. PLEASE SIGN IN TO SYSTEM TO BEGIN.**

_Five minutes_ , he told himself. _We have five minutes to do this. Not that it’s ever a problem, but it’s still good to keep in mind. Gotta remember. Five. Minutes._

He never took longer than five minutes - after all, he was programmed to perform his tasks precisely on time. This step’s purpose was to ensure that he was active and mobile, as it involved moving from Place A (his ‘pod’) to Place B (the main entrance), and to also begin a countdown to the facility’s security system alarm activation. If, say, something happened and he couldn’t sign in within this timeframe, administration would be notified that he had undergone a ‘booting failure’ and it would just be one big inconvenience to everyone. And so he remained diligent, and on schedule, always, never wanting to deviate and cause a problem. It was his job. His purpose.

Next, he circled around the reception desk to enter the main foyer. He passed by the non-functioning decorative water fountain, the evaporated aquariums that surrounded the massive pillars decorating the expanse of the room, like an abandoned sea palace. He walked past his ‘station’ - a little area with a mini kiosk, sectioned off by velvet ropes with a small raised podium in front of a gigantic seaside mural - and approached the panel by the main entrance doors.  Before proceeding, he took a moment to look through the glass doors leading to the outside world, curious to see if maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that there would be a change out there, past the external walls of the aquarium. Every morning, he did this. Just in case.

It was daytime, he was sure of it, but it was very dark. All he could make out was the vague outline of the giant statue of Leviathan in the entrance courtyard, what used to be a breathtaking fountain; inviting guests inside the building and providing the ideal spot for selfies. It hadn’t been active in a very long time, much like the sun that shone in the sky. He missed the sight of the glittering water in the sunlight as it spritzed around the fountain perimeter, the sound of children’s laughter as they splashed in it, the scolding of their parents following immediately - “Don’t put your hands in there, it’s filthy!” - and the whines in protest - “Aww, but it’s so _hot_ today!”

The familiar sounds were all but echoes lost in time, now.

He frowned, shaking away the thought process that dwelled on the once lively outdoor atmosphere, and forced himself to get back on schedule. He tapped the panel’s screen and leaned close toward the circular lens, allowing the system to scan his eyes. Part one of the sign in process. Then, he spoke his name for the voice recognition prompt, part two.

“Prompto Argentum, Your Friendly Face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, Worldwide!” he said in his usual cheerful tone, with his usual automatic smile. He then froze in place, waiting, waiting, waiting, to see if maybe, just _maybe_ , today would be the day that he would be granted access to the server again.

He waited.

**CONNECTING…**

And waited. And waited. It was taking longer than usual, today. Could it be? His hands tensed, curling into fists in suspense and a little bit of anxious simulated excitement. And just when he started to get his hopes up---

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**UNABLE TO CONNECT TO LOCAL SERVER.**

**PLEASE SIGN IN VIA THE ONLINE TIMESHEET.**

His shoulders slouched.

Every day… like clockwork, it was the same.

He took a step away from the panel, closing his eyes as he began to access the main worldwide server internally, his circuits whirring as he booted up the program. “Access Argentum Aquatic Centre Employee Sign-in Terminal,” he spoke aloud, “Username: QuickSilver. Password: Wark.”

He knew there was no point in getting his hopes up. And right away, the response was immediate. He knew it would be. After all...

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**UNABLE TO CONNECT TO SERVER. PLEASE SIGN IN USING THE GUEST SERVICES PHYSICAL TIMESHEET.**

...it was always. The. Same.

Back to the Guest Services desk he went.

He turned on his heels, heading for the long arched desk and scooting behind it when he got there. The desk’s surface was covered with stacks of paper, all timesheets that had reached their max capacity of signatures and dates and times. He searched for the last sheet he had been filling out, as the air conditioning vent above had blown it around and, apparently, made it fly off the desk onto the floor. After recovering the sheet, he pulled out his pen to fill in his name on an available line, only to discover that yesterday he had filled in the last spot on the sheet. Every line consisted of his own name. Just like all the other sheets he had completed, all by himself.

_Already finished? Guess it’s time to print out a new one._

_Click click_ went the computer mouse, _clack clack_ went the keyboard as he signed in with his credentials. As always, he ignored the onslaught of pop-up errors that informed him of multiple system connection failures. He didn’t need the server. He had already been informed that it was unavailable many times today; he _really_ didn’t need another reminder. Thankfully, what he _did_ need was located on the computer’s desktop and not the server.  He navigated the appropriate folders until he found the “Employee Files - Sign In Sheet.doc” file. He double clicked the icon, launching the word processor so he could send a new copy of the blank sign in sheet to the printer.

The printer whirred as it booted up and attempted to print. It beeped something awful after a few seconds. _That’s weird,_ he thought as he headed over to the printer to inspect the cause. Oh.  
  
Upon further inspection, it looked like it was time to fill the tray with a new package of blank paper.

He approached the nearby supply cabinet, sliding open the bottom drawer. _Uh oh._ _Only one package of paper left._ He’d sent in a request for an office supply delivery ages ago, but it remained in the system’s queue, waiting to be sent out when the server connection was reestablished. But _just in case_ , he sent one more request anyway, as if maybe, just _maybe_ , the second he did, the connection would be restored, like magic.

He loaded paper into the printer and allowed it to resume printing. He plucked the sheet off the tray and went back over to the desk, smiling as he picked up his pen again.  “Prompto Argentum,” he wrote on one line, followed by the day’s date, then his signature. He set the piece of paper next to the last stack of sign in sheets, the base for the next inevitable paper tower.

 _Finally._ He was done signing in. “Next objective?”  he asked aloud, sending the request to his scheduling program now that he had completed his previous task at last. He already knew what the next task was, but. It was in his programming to follow the schedule in sequence.

**PERFORM BASIC JANITORIAL DUTIES.**

This was his favourite part of the morning routine. It was his job to make sure cleanliness was up to the aquarium’s standards in the main entrance lobby. Appearances were important. The main entrance lobby was the first thing their paying guests saw when they first stepped into their facility; it was imperative that it was spic and span; no dust, no garbage, no dirt. Everything had to be spotless and presentable, as if it were being photographed for a promotional brochure.

He took this task very seriously. He had just under two hours to complete this set of duties before the rest of the staff began to arrive, and he always worked diligently, finishing with moments to spare. Mopping. Dusting. Rearranging. Restocking the brochures, the maps, the other various flyers that decorated the rack near the Guest Services desk, making sure that everything was all lined up, facing the right way, _absolutely perfect. Presentable._

He looked up at the sculptures of sea creatures that were mounted along the walls and suspended from the high ceilings; massive and ominous, and though they were impressive, he knew they weren’t built to scale to the real thing. When he had time, he would get out the extendable tall ladder from the supply closet and climb up there to give them a good dusting. Today, he happened to notice that one of the manta rays was slightly askew. How? He didn’t know, but it was unacceptable. He had to fix it, and did so, despite his programmed personality quirk of having a disdain for heights.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 7:00AM: ASSIST STAFF AS REQUIRED.**

What used to be his other favourite part of his morning duties had recently become his least.

Normally, the front doors would burst open as the familiar faces of his aquarium ‘family’, as the company called it, would rush in with smiles and waves and coffee cups. Most of the staff members would walk right past him and ignore his cheerful greetings, but the select few that acknowledged his presence were cheerful and gracious. They would ask him how his morning went and chat about their evenings the night before. He would laugh and smile and ask if he could be of any assistance to them that morning.

On most mornings, he would make an effort to accompany one staff member in particular, the only one he considered to be his friend, to the entrance of the Amazon rainforest exhibit. As he helped her carry her boxes of heavy supplies so she wouldn’t have to, she fussed over his hair. “Haven’t you ever heard of a little thing called a mirror, Doll Face?” she’d ask teasingly. “You sure we don’t have a rat infestation in here? Your hair’s a right mess, sweetie. Like a big rat’s nest. Let me fix it for you.”

He still held onto that sliver of hope that any second now, the other staff members would start arriving, one by one. That soon he would see his friend’s face, smiling tiredly at him as she pushed up the rim of her bucket hat before waving in greeting. She never had been much of a morning person, but it never changed her kind and sweet demeanour. The way she’d laugh and affectionately touch his shoulder when he smiled at her. How they would spend their breaks together, chatting about frogs and lizards and butterflies and the big movie that was on its way to theatres that weekend.

The way she treated him like a human being, even when he was technically anything but.

He found that when he reflected back those days, he missed her most of all.

He stood there in the lobby, watching those front doors, waiting. Patiently. He continued waiting even as the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes rolled over to a full hour. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not until his scheduling program told him otherwise.

How long had it been this way? Since the last time a guest had stepped foot inside that foyer? Months? Years? He could check his log, but part of him really didn’t want to. There wasn't even a trace of dirty shoe prints on the floor, a hint of the place that once contained overwhelming energy and life. Any and all traces had been literally wiped away as part of his janitorial duties.

Clean and presentable. That’s the way the aquarium entrance lobby was supposed to be.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 8:00AM: PREPARE FOR OPENING DUTIES.**

He strode over to his station, unhooking the velvet rope sectioning the souvenir photography area off from public access before he approached the small kiosk. He unlocked the drawer and pulled out his supplies: his nametag, fastening it to his chest right beside his butterfly-esque bowtie, his wristband, sliding it over his right wrist to cover the ports on the underside and the barcode on the top, and his camera, his pride and joy, sliding the strap around his neck so it hung there easily accessible.

He unzipped the pouch that was fastened to his hip and pulled out one of the many memory cards he had in his arsenal, popping it into the camera. Booting it up, he made sure he had enough space on the card for the many, many photos of guests that he would take in a typical work day. On this particular card, he was starting to run out of room, but luckily he had another that he could use if necessary.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 9:00AM: ASSUME POSITION TO GREET GUESTS UPON BEGINNING OF BUSINESS HOURS.**

As he stood there in his position, hands eagerly clasping his camera, he watched the main entrance doors for any sign of a guest, like a dog waiting eagerly for its owner to come home.

But there were no guests. There hadn’t been any guests for a very, very long time.

There were no guests to greet with a smile and a “Welcome to the Argentum Aquatic Centre!”. No guests to take a commemorative photo of. No kids to entertain; to goof around with and make smile and laugh, subsequently making their parents smile, too. No guests to provide information, to give basic customer service. No guests to direct to the restaurants upstairs, no guests to direct to the washrooms, no guests to direct to the gift shop just feet away from the photography kiosk.

The last while, he’d begun to photograph other things, an oddity in itself as he had always been strictly told that the memory card and camera were property of the aquarium and were to only be used for business purposes. It was in his programming, but also in his programming was to make himself ‘look busy’ if there were no guests. Something about his camera made him go off of his directive somewhat; it gave him… peculiar ideas. Ideas such as… _what if you photographed things other than guests?_

Closed in by the boundaries of his Directive Zone, the First Floor main entrance lobby, he found himself wandering away from his station more and more lately, curiously taking in his surroundings. Instead of guests, he would photograph the pillars in the lobby, the large murals covering the tall walls leading up to the ceiling, all decorated with various sea creatures. He would photograph the Guest Services desk, the brochures sitting on his kiosk in their plastic transparent stands, the colorful signage on the walls that directed guests to the appropriate exhibits, written in big and eye catching fonts. One day, in an itch to photograph a guest that he just couldn’t scratch for obvious reasons, he’d discovered that he could take photos of himself.

He’d spent some time experimenting. He’d turned the camera around and pressed the shutter button, pointing the lens at himself. It had taken a few good tries until he’d perfected the art, remembering what he’d observed the guests doing with one another, when he’d be greeted excitedly as they’d rush over to his side, wanting to pose for a ‘selfie’ with the ‘mascot’.

 _Selfie. Right. That’s what these kinds of photos were called. A photo that you took of yourself, by yourself, was called a selfie._ Somewhere along the way, he’d become a selfie pro, and now the only ‘guest photos’ stored on his memory cards were photos of himself.

It was how he passed the time during open business hours every single day. All eight hours a day. All fifty-six hours a week.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 5:30PM: ASSIST STAFF WITH PRE-CLOSING DUTIES. ENSURE GUESTS ARE ASSISTED TO THE EXITS.**

As he headed for his station’s kiosk again, he leaned against the counter and crinkled his nose. He knew it would be the same as always, but just in case, he double checked the day’s activity log to make sure he hadn’t missed any important details, such as a staff member or a guest entering the facility without his knowing. But of course, there was nothing. No traces of anyone there except for himself.

With no one to assist, he stood there at his kiosk for half an hour, waiting patiently for his next objective.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 6:00PM: PERFORM JANITORIAL DUTIES IN DESIGNATED DIRECTIVE AREA.**

Despite there being no guests, no staff, no activity whatsoever in his directive area, he had no choice but to make the rounds again with his mop and bucket. He mopped up every inch of the floor that was once patterned with checkers, now faded and streaky from overuse of the cleaning solution he used in the water. Everything was already organized; perfect, spotless. He stared at the large rack of brochures on display for the tourists. Each folded, brightly colored lump of paper was already perfectly nestled in the racking, nothing askew.

He ‘accidentally’ knocked a row to the floor. Just so he would have something to clean up. He was starting to do that frequently, lately. For some reason.

That was an irregularity.

**SCHEDULE: SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5TH: 7:00PM: CONNECT TO ARGENTUM CLOUD AND UPLOAD STATISTICS REPORT.**

He really, really didn’t want to do this. But, he had to.

After a moment’s hesitation, he shuffled back behind the Guest Services desk, down the small hallway that led to his pod. He opened the door to the cabinet and sat down at the console, picking up the cords he’d laced on the hooks earlier. Sliding his wristband down, he popped them back into the ports, waiting for the words he predicted he would hear in his head and right away, there they were.

**CONNECTING…**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED. PLEASE CHECK WITH ADMINISTRATOR.**

**ADMINISTRATOR NOT AVAILABLE.**

**PLEASE ADD STATISTICS REPORT TO THE QUEUE.**

And he did. Again.

He slammed the back of his head against the seat cushion. Simulated frustration.

How many times did he have to do this?

He’d spent many, many hours trying to connect to the Argentum Cloud, but every single time his connection was refused. He didn’t know why. Did something happen, just like the entire system’s server? Did it crash? Was it destroyed? Were ‘they’ okay?

‘They’.

‘Them’.

He missed ‘them’.

One day, he’d be able to connect again. And until that day… he had no choice but to comply to his programming. His schedule. His directive.

The final instruction of the day rang clear in his mind, at last.

**ENTER HIBERNATION MODE AND WAIT FOR NEXT DAY’S OBJECTIVE.**

He smiled to himself. Now, it was truly his favourite part of the day.

Somewhere along the way, he’d learned that because the prompt didn’t _technically_ give him a timestamp to do this by, he could do this whenever he pleased.

Popping the plugs out of his wrist, he hopped to his feet, his entire demeanour changed now that he no longer had a schedule to follow. It was a free block. He didn’t even need to hibernate for a set amount of time - he could stay up all night if he so chose.

With a bit of a skip to his step, he wandered the floor with a completely different aura surrounding him. The echoing expanse of the lobby, once silent, could now be filled with the sound of his own voice.

“Hey, desk!” he chirped cheerfully, pointing at the Guest Services desk as he walked by it.

“How’s it going, brochure? You’re looking a bit _sharp around the edges_ , as usual,” he grinned wide at his own joke.

He ran to his kiosk so he could gather up his camera again, then approached the statue of a large whale breaching out of a sculpted water surface near the entrance to the deep sea exhibit.

“Hey, Orson,” he mused. He couldn’t remember if he’d named the whale himself, or if it was actually a named staple of the aquarium, and he didn’t really care to find out. Orson was neat. And as it turned out, really photogenic. The statue was huge, towering over him like a lumbering giant from the pages of a fantasy novel.

He stood in front of Orson and snapped a selfie, a great big toothy smile on his face, and when he reviewed the photo he couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice one. You’re looking a little… _stiff_ , though. You doing okay there, buddy?” he grinned. “It’s not a _breach_ of your privacy for us to snap photos of you, right? Aw, c’mon. You look like you’re smiling, so it’s cool, right? Sweet. That’s what we thought.”

As he wandered the lobby, chattering to himself, he stopped suddenly when he heard a sound.

_Ribbit._

_Ribbit._

Oh, no.

_It’s you. Again._

Both his greatest ally and his greatest enemy in the aquarium these days.

_Carl._

He’d never actually _seen_ Carl, but he’d heard him. And he’d heard stories about him. His friend that ran the Amazon exhibit would tell him all about Carl, the escape artist ‘rainbow frog of legend’ who would find a way to escape from his enclosure, somehow, every single day. Fed up with his shenanigans, his friend eventually gave up and just let Carl free roam in the greenery and ponds. (“Fine, if your ass wants out so bad, then suit yourself!” she’d said.) Carl never left the entrance of the Amazon exhibit, though. Not until recently.

He wasn’t sure if the frog was lost in the aquarium lobby somewhere or if he went back and forth on a daily basis, but whenever he heard him, it was like one big game of hide and seek that he would always lose. Carl only chose the most complicated hiding spots possible. How hard was it, even, to find a rainbow frog?! He was pretty decently sized, too, so where the heck was he hiding?! Maybe he was magic. He was a frog ‘of legend’, after all. Anything was possible.

He chewed on his lip absently as he pulled out a rainbow-patterned frog keychain from his pocket, a gift from his friend that he kept on him at all times. In situations like these, he would attempt to have ‘conversations’ with Carl, using the low croaking noise that squawked from the keychain when squeezed. He didn’t know if it was coincidence or what, but Carl seemed to reply to it… sometimes. He used the keychain as a makeshift tracker, walking around the lobby with a _croak croak croak_. He held it high and low and beside crevices and other obstructions, trying to get at least a small hint of Carl’s whereabouts.

_Squish, croak, squish, croak._

“Where are you?”  he murmured, cupping his hand around the shell of his ear, as if that would help him pinpoint where the croaking replies were coming from, amplify them in some way.

 _Squish, croak, squish, croak_.

He listened.

_Ribbit._

A reply!

As he wandered over to the left, he heard another. And another. Soon, he’d followed the low croaking into the far back corner of the lobby, near the rear emergency exit doors. _Seriously? There?_ _You really_ are _trying to escape for real, huh? Carl, what gives? You’ve got it pretty good here, y’know!_

He inspected the frame of the exit doors, glancing around and listening as carefully as he could in case he heard even so much as a _splat_ of a frog landing on the floor, falling from a tall excursion up the wall, possibly. Hm. No splat, but he heard another ribbit. It was… loud. Really loud. The loudest he’d ever heard it. He slowly squeezed the keychain, _croak_ , and immediately, there came the reply: _ribbit._

The excitement was almost overwhelming. Or, what he assumed was programmed, simulated excitement. The only place Carl could possibly be was behind, beside, or under the recycling bin that was stationed along the wall near the doors. He was almost too wary to explore it, expecting to be disappointed by nothing as was the norm, but he knew he had to. He’d been looking forward to this moment for so long. He could practically _taste_ it; well, if he could actually taste anything, that was.

On the count of three.

One.

Two

_Three._

And.. there he was.

There sat the elusive Carl, in all his rainbow glory, clinging to the side of the recycling bin just as he’d predicted. His throat expanded and deflated in a humorous looking bubble, his glazed bulbous eyes darting over to stare at Prompto as if to say _Shit. You found me._

Despite all the frustration this frog had caused over the years, not only to himself but to his friend, he still couldn’t help but think Carl was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Wasn’t it always the pretty ones that were the biggest pains the ass? Right. His friend had often told him that. Though when she said it, it was actually in regards to men, not frogs. But maybe the same also applied here.

“Oh. Em. Gee,” he mused, grinning as he moved his hands up to grasp his camera, practically in slow motion. “ _Finally._ ” The last thing he wanted was to scare Carl off after all this time. It had been _so long_ since he’d first heard him out in the lobby. He… he had to document this. At last, he had come to the end of the quest _Operation: Find Carl._ He wanted a photo. _Yes. Destiny,_ he thought as he booted up the camera and held it as steadily as he could, his hands shaking from the suspense. He had to make it a good one. This was a critical moment, something he’d remember forever.

He took a second to prepare the camera, making sure the framing and filter was set correctly, intending to get _the absolute perfect shot._ His finger hovered over the shutter, and right when he was about to press it to seal the deal...

_Bam._

_Clatter._

_Smash._

_Spatter._

_Clink, clink._

Glass?

Wait.

Broken glass?

That was definitely broken glass.

_Bam._

_Crack._

_Boom_.

Something else fell.

A… wall? No. A door?

He jerked in surprise, the sudden sequence of noises breaking the usual silence of the facility, like someone had taken a baseball bat to the tense air and shattered it just like the glass. For a second it stunned him, freezing the soles of his boots to the floor. He’d never heard anything like it before. What _was_ that, really? What was going on? It sounded like it came from the other side of the lobby, near the main entrance. Dealing with an anomaly like this wasn’t in his programming, wasn’t part of his directive. That was security’s job. But security wasn’t here. He was all alone.

Well, except for Carl.

And speaking of Carl, the frog used this diversion to his advantage as he made a run for it. Or rather, a hop.

“No! Carl! Come back!” he yelped, scrambling after the frog, reaching out in an unproductive poor attempt to grab him. “Just a second longer, okay?!”

Carl was already ten feet away. Wow, were all frogs this fast?! He couldn’t let him go. Not now, when he’d finally found him after all this time. The thought of him getting away was actually... Distressing. Simulated distress. Carl was his only company, now. His only friend in this large, empty place.

With the frog slipping past his fingers and disappearing into the darkness behind one of ATM kiosks, he stopped dead in his tracks when he suddenly heard a loud _beep_ sound in his mind.

Wait.

A... new prompt.

A new objective was just issued to his scheduling program.

But… how?

His next direction wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow morning, at 5:00AM sharp, just like it had this morning. And every other morning before it. For years. And years. And _years._ He never received one after 7:00PM’s hibernation command until the following day, when the schedule cycle began anew in the morning. He held his hand to his head, cautiously awaiting this new request, a zillion things running through his circuits all at once. Was… he being hacked? That had to be it. This made no sense at all, so what other explanation could there be?

**DIRECTIVE: GUEST HAS ARRIVED AT APPROXIMATELY 10:53PM. GREET AND ACCOMMODATE.**

The shock of the command nearly knocked him off his feet. He stumbled, bumping into the recycling bin as he continued to keep a firm hold on his camera.

A guest?

Here?

At this hour?

Guests were not supposed to be in the facility after 6:00PM.

Guests were only to start arriving at the facility at 9:00AM.

Not 10:53PM.

This was wrong.

This was very, very wrong.

Something was wrong.

What was going on?

The schedule.

He had to follow the schedule.

But the schedule was wrong.

Guests were not permitted inside the facility after closing hours.

Then how could there be a guest here? Right now? At 10:53PM?

There was no doubt in his mind that his clock application was running accurately.

So how?

Ten. Fifty-three. Pee. Em.

All at once, he lost the strength in his fingers and dropped his camera, now hanging limply around his neck on its strap like a sling . As he stood there, stationary, his eye lenses expanded and minimized over and over, the sound of his circuits whirring like a thunderstorm as they struggled to comprehend the situation.

This was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It didn’t compute. This wasn’t possible. How? There was only one explanation. His programming, it was all---

\----a lie.

The parameters. The schedule. It was a lie. It was false. It was wrong. Incorrect. incomprehensible. Nonsensical. _Wrong._

And it was then, at 10:54PM, that he experienced his very first system crash.

He fell forward, losing his balance as his body ragdolled. It hit the recycling bin with a loud _thump_ , falling to the floor like discarded rubbish. His system forced itself into diagnostic mode as it desperately tried to fix the cause of the conflict, struggling to remain stabilized while his limp body remained on the ground. The whole process took longer than anticipated, and with a _beep_ of finality, his system rebooted. His entire body gave a low _whirr_ as it shut off completely, then booted up again, running through the usual internal system messages.

Once complete, his body jittered as he slowly forced himself to sit up. Slowly. His processes felt… sluggish. As all of his relevant programs and circuits finished booting up as well, he glanced around at his surroundings. Everything appeared to be running as normal.

Or so he thought.

...

His short-term memory was a blank slate.

What just happened?

**RUNTIME ERROR.**

Oh, no.

Wait, what?

What did that mean? What the hell was a runtime error?

**COULD NOT LAUNCH ARGENTUMAQUARIUMSCHEDULER.EXE. FILE IS CORRUPTED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY.**

What?

This had never happened before. Ever.

He tried it again.

**COULD NOT LAUNCH ARGENTUMAQUARIUMSCHEDULER.EXE. FILE IS CORRUPTED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY.**

His hands clutched his head. He didn’t know what to do. His task program, his scheduler, it was… corrupted? It was broken? Unusable? His diagnostics program couldn’t fix it?

He didn’t know how he was supposed to function without it. He couldn't even bring himself to send a request to the system’s upload queue to request said administrator for help. There wasn’t a point. He knew that the server was down. He wouldn’t be able to contact the administrator no matter what he did, so why even bother? Why waste the time and effort?

He felt completely and utterly lost. How was he supposed to function now? If the program was corrupted, what happened next? What was he supposed to do?

He whimpered as he forced himself to get to his feet, wobbly at first as his balance fought to stabilize itself. He used the recycling bin as leverage, hands pressing against it to prevent himself from falling over, something he’d never experienced before. He felt strange. So strange. What was this? Wait.. he… felt?

Just then, his crisis was interrupted by another sound, this time one less explosive and jarring. It was faint, at first. Then as it slowly grew louder, he realized that it was a sound that he knew very well.

Footsteps.

There were footsteps.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Measured and bold; the stride of a guest with long legs. An adult.

Right.

A guest.

There was a guest. His scheduler had told him so. It was the program’s last words to him, as if uttered in a mechanical dying ‘breath’. Important words. He intended not to let them go to waste. In some ways, ArgentumAquariumScheduler.exe had been his other best friend for a very long time, keeping him company and literally keeping him going when nothing else did.

_Footsteps._

They were like music to his ears. He practically vibrated with simulated excitement.

How long had he waited for this moment? To have a guest to serve again? To have a guest to photograph, make smile and assist?

He didn’t need to have ArgentumAquariumScheduler.exe running to know how to take care of a guest. He was a _pro_. Greeting and caring for guests was his directive, after all. It was his function. His only job. He literally only existed for this very purpose.

He smiled. He straightened out his butterfly-shaped bowtie and picked up his camera again.

_Right._

_We’ve got a job to do._

He turned around and headed for the main entrance lobby, an eager, sanguine bounce in his step.


	2. UNCATEGORIZED VISITOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I am floored by all the lovely comments I received on chapter one! So much, in fact, that it inspired me to post chapter two ahead of my initial plan! Thank you everyone for being wonderful, I appreciate your support! <3
> 
> Also, if you're interested - [I posted the original concept art of Prompto in his aquarium uniform on my Tumblr](https://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com/post/173710189986/ai-am-human-prompto-concept-art), drawn by [Godspoison](http://godspoison.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter - it's a fun one!

** DATA LOG #2: UNCATEGORIZED VISITOR **

 

“Welcome! We’re Prompto Argentum, the Friendly Face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, Worldwide!”

The voice that suddenly filled the large expanse of the building’s lobby was cheerful, inviting and very loud. The intruder hadn’t expected anyone to even be here, and yet, there was, and hastily his arm had been taken hostage by a grabby hand before he could have any say in the matter. 

“And why, as luck would have it - congratulations! You’re the very first guest of the day, and we would like to offer  _ you _ a commemorative photo to celebrate - on the house! Come, this way! Won’t even cost ya a single gil! How could anyone resist, right?”

The intruder barely had a chance to register what was happening when he suddenly found himself being pulled along, a short, blond, peculiarly dressed young man at his side. He stumbled along after the stranger, stuttering words of confusion and rejection that fell on unattentive ears as the young man made no effort to cease what he was doing. 

“It’s quite all right, I----” the intruder tried again, practically tripping over his own boots. The blond was stronger than he looked. He had a firm grasp, and the way he tugged him along was akin to the force of a reverse bulldozer.

“Our kiosk is just this way, right beside this really big and really cool mural of a deep sea diver, swimming with the fishies,” the young man - Prompto, was it? -  continued. “Perfect backdrop, don’tcha think? It’s like you’re really there, swimming beside ‘em and---”

Prompto paused, his brow furrowing as he peered around the intruder, staring at the debris that decorated the linoleum flooring by the entrance doors. He looked confused, maybe even offended, and just as the intruder began to use this momentary lapse of attention as a diversion, he found that he was just a little too slow. Prompto continued on with his previous thought, as if he hadn’t been interrupted to begin with.

“---taking in the sights firsthand! Look at all the seaweed, wiggling around in the current like a bunch of green party streamers! Of course, we’d hope that if you really  _ were _ there, you’d be wearing a diving suit too. Oxygen and all that, y’know? Kinda need it to go underwater. What a disaster that would be, diving with no diving suit and oxygen tank. Yikes. We don’t recommend that. We don’t recommend that at  _ all _ .”

The intruder almost tripped as he was pulled up onto a raised podium with the talkative boy, too stunned and confused to make another attempt at protesting. The blond leaned in close, held up a camera, and - were they taking a selfie?

“Say, ‘fuzzy pickles’!”

Fuzzy  _ what? _

His vision was temporarily blinded by a flash of light. The flash of a free commemorative souvenir photo, being forced upon him like a telemarketer calling his private phone number.

“I really don’t---” the intruder tried once more, but he was too late. Prompto was already talking again. 

“Heeeeey, take a look at this! Turned out great, if we do say so ourselves!” Prompto chirped, grinning wide as he held up the camera to show off the photo on the small preview screen. 

The intruder peered downward, regarding their portrait as Prompto presented it to him. In the photo, they stood side by side, the smaller man obviously standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to match his photo partner’s height. The intruder had a look of bewilderment on his face, his usually perfectly styled hair falling forward from its combed back semi-pomp to slightly obscure his green eyes, over the lenses of his glasses. Aside from confusion, he just looked so… tired. It seemed that it had been awhile since he’d last looked in a mirror, because he couldn’t help but think that he looked downright ghastly.

Prompto, meanwhile, had the biggest grin known to mankind on his face, his freckled visage brightened with cheer as he flashed a peace sign at the bottom corner of the photo’s border. The blue newsboy cap that nestled among the mop of his blond hair was slightly askew. The intruder could see right away why Prompto was the assumed mascot of the aquarium - he brightened up the photo without really trying. He looked innocent. Carefree. Friendly. His blue and green aquarium-themed clothing was charming and cute, obviously meant to appeal to children. Marketable.

Aside from how awkward and almost frumpy he looked in it, the intruder really couldn’t complain about how the photo turned out as a whole. The photo quality was impressive. Perfect lighting, perfect framing, perfect focus… crystal clear, really.  But despite the skill required to produce such a literal picture-perfect image, he couldn’t help but feel that something about the energetic boy seemed… off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it… maybe it was only his imagination.

“So, whaddya think? Turned out great, right?”  Prompto asked eagerly. Before the intruder had a chance to reply, Prompto dropped the camera, letting it hang on the strap around his neck. He rummaged around in the pockets of his puffy ocean floor themed pants before producing a photo voucher and one of the aquarium’s maps. He forced them into the intruder’s gloved hand, then took a step back as if to admire his handiwork. 

“So, do you have a name? What should we call you during your stay here at the Argentum Aquatic Centre?” Prompto asked, the smile never leaving his face. The boy looked like he was over the moon with excitement just from the mere prospect of serving someone. Was his presence really all that extraordinary? 

If things had gone the way the intruder assumed they had for this facility, much like the rest of the world.. Then yes… it probably was.

“I fail to see how that is any of your business,” the intruder huffed, taking a step back from Prompto to put some space between them, now that he was freed from the confines of the selfie. Did Prompto have no concept of personal space? 

The intruder then realized that he was still holding the voucher and brochure in his hand. He glanced down at them, noting the colourful text and logos decorating the pages. Front and centre on the brochure was a familiar looking cartoon character. He looked back up at Prompto. Aside from some minor differences, the likeness was indisputable. Ah. So, he was right. Prompto  _ was _ the aquarium’s mascot. He tucked the papers into the pocket of his long grey winter jacket, followed by his hands in a slightly defensive stance.

Prompto’s posture seemed to deflate for a moment, taken aback by the intruder’s disengaged reply and posture. “How are we supposed to properly greet a guest if we don’t know their name? It’s impolite, right? We could get written up for something like that,” Prompto urged. The boy looked more offended that he wasn’t being given a name than he himself felt being forced to give it.

The intruder - now ‘guest’ - sighed. He’d already been forced into a selfie with Prompto. At this point, there really was no reason to withhold his name. Their interaction had already been immortalized, frozen in time, without his permission. So what was a name?

“Ignis,” the guest answered at last.

“Surname?”

He wasn’t so sure he was comfortable providing this information, but for some reason it fell from his lips before he could stop it. “Scientia,” he offered, feeling like he’d just accepted his defeat.

“And a good evening to you, Mr. Scientia! We’re pleased to make your acquaintance! Welco---”

“Just Ignis is fine, thank you.”

Prompto paused, as if he were debating whether or not it was okay for him to address an adult guest so informally. “Okay then… Ignis! Welcome to the Argentum Aquatic Centre! We’re your friendly host and mascot, Prompto Argentum, and we’re here to happily provide any and all---”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ignis interrupted. 

“Wha---”

“I am not a guest.”

“You’re....not?”

“No.”

There was a long pause before Prompto spoke again.

“...Maintenance?”

“No.”

“Merchandiser? Courier?” Prompto tried again. “We didn’t see you with any skids, and we didn’t get a notification about a truck entering the loading dock… wait, we thought shipments only came in on Tuesdays? Weird, we should probably double check the schedule---done. Nope. Nothing. Were you here because of a rush delivery, maybe? Oh, oh! Our paper! You’re here with our paper order, right? You’re a bit late, like, months late, but don’t worry, we won’t tell the boss. That’s how happy we are to get our paper, at last.” Prompto winked.

Ignis sighed heavily, averting his gaze as he pushed the stray strands of hair away from his face. He was really starting to lose his patience. The kid barely gave him a chance to speak. And besides - this was all a huge waste of time. He didn’t exactly have the time nor the energy to goof off and play tourist with a confused employee.

“Prompto, I am not a guest,” Ignis explained. “I am not a merchandiser, nor am I a courier. I don’t have anything to do with this place. I’m here merely by chance.”

Prompto stared at him. For the first time since their meeting, he was completely silent, drawing a complete blank as an almost stunned expression crossed his features.

“Oh.”

Ignis was about to step away and go about his business when Prompto spoke again, eager to continue their conversation.

“If you’re not a guest, and you’re not a merchandiser, maintenance or a delivery person… then what  _ are _ you?” he asked, perplexed.

Ignis was the one that paused this time. He didn’t actually know what to say. Technically, he was an intruder. He  _ did _ perform a break and enter, after all,  _ and _ he had damaged private property by busting that door down. Perhaps he’d made a bigger entrance than he had intended to, what with breaking all that glass with large rocks, then using the last of his explosives to do away with those pesky barriers most people called doors. Was it a bit much?

“A.... visitor,” he said at last. “A brief one, I hope.”

Prompto’s brow furrowed more, his silence carrying forward. Could it be that that response was a little too broad?

“So if you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of anything that would be considered… resourceful,” Ignis continued, “Food, perhaps, or any sort of supplies that would be useful in assisting me and my companions on our trip - it would be greatly appreciated.”

Prompto continued to stare at him. “You’re… not here to see the aquarium?” he asked in a small voice.

“No, I am not. I am not here for leisure purposes. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” When Prompto didn’t reply right away, Ignis took that as a sign to exit and proceed with his task. He took a step off of the podium with every intent of being on his way, when---

“W-w-w-w-welcome to the Argentum Aquatic Centre! We’re Pr-rrrrrrrrr-ooooommpto Argentum, the fr-fr-fr-fr-fr---”  

Ignis froze, startled.

Prompto’s voice warbled, his tone shifting from what was once natural, normal, to something completely synthesized. Computerized. Broken up, like the static of a poor radio signal.

His body briefly jittered like something out of a horror movie, then stopped moving altogether as his attempt at speech fell flat. Silent. His hands gripped the bottom of his shirt, eyes downcast, his irises darting back and forth rapidly.

Processing.

Ignis couldn’t help but stare, overcome with curiosity.

_ Ah.  _

_ I see. _

_ It all makes sense, now. _

It was then that Ignis realized that Prompto was not a mere confused employee. Well, not entirely. He was an employee, yes, but the issue at hand was not his occupation, but rather his… species.

Prompto wasn’t human. 

Prompto... was an A.I. 

An A.I. A glorified, man-made robot, putting on a show for the general public. Masquerading. Manufactured to look, sound and behave exactly like a human being. Ignis had heard about these particular units before - but he never thought he would ever come across one stationed in a place like this. Such technology was high-tech, presumably only used for government or military purposes. It was peculiar for one so passable to be working as an aquarium greeter. Ignis had certainly been fooled until now, at first believing that Prompto was nothing more than an over enthusiastic, slightly eccentric employee. A fellow human being.

Human or machine, Ignis had a lot of questions. The first one pertaining to what exactly had happened, just now. 

“Prompto?”  Ignis asked, slowly approaching the machine. There was something unsettling about his behavior. Was he broken? He felt compelled to check on him, even if this was contributing to his time being wasted.

Prompto’s blue eyes, his mechanical lenses mimicking the appearance of human irises, rose to meet Ignis’ green gaze.

“You’re… the first guest of the day, right?” Prompto asked slowly, his voice appearing to be back to normal after that brief glitch. “That means… you’ve won a free commemorative photo with the one and only Prompto Argentum! How rude of us for not noticing sooner! C’mon, let’s get the good times rollin’! Or should we say.. swimmin’?” the boy said cheerfully, clapping his hands together as he reached for Ignis’ sleeve.

“Prompto, we’ve already taken a photo together. Remember?” Ignis said cautiously, as if he was worried that the unit was going to spark a fire. “It was just before you started acting erratically.”

Prompto blinked.  “We… did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. We… we don’t recall.”  Prompto quickly snatched up his camera and turned it on, reviewing the photo reel. His nose crinkled when he saw the selfie staring back at him, clear as day.  “Huh. You’re right. We guess we did. Okay then. Oh, and by the way… what do you mean, ‘acting erratically’?”

Ignis didn’t reply. He was about to step back down again, quite done with this conversation, but Prompto continued.

“But juuuuust in case, why don’t we take another? You can never have enough souvenirs, right? You can also purchase extras, give ‘em all to your friends and family!”

“That’s quite all right, Prompto.”  Two steps away from the podium.

“You…really don’t want another photo with the world famous Prompto Argentum, the Friendly Face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, Worldwide?” the blond asked meekly.

“No, thank you. Your name means nothing to me.” Five steps.

“Wait. You’ve… never heard of us before?”

“I don’t pay attention to trivial things, such as children’s aquarium mascots.” Ten steps.

“Aw, c’mon. You’ve never heard of us? Ever? You’ve never been to the aquarium before? Oh, man. We’re surprised! Aquariums are  _ great _ , dude! You’ve really missed out! Since this is your first visit, then, would you like us to recommend which attraction to visit first?” Prompto dashed in front of Ignis, blocking his path and poor attempt at leaving as he smiled wide.

The boy seemed so genuine, so... _ real _ . It was difficult to process that this was not, in fact, a living, breathing human being he was interacting with.

“That won’t be necessary.” Ignis tried to push past the robot, but Prompto was very insistent, determined to keep Ignis’ attention focused on him and the many services he provided as part of his programming. His feet danced with Ignis’, shuffling on the floor with every scrape of a boot heel. “I’m very busy. Now, if you’ll excuse me….” He stepped around Prompto again, this time succeeding as the other finally stood still and let him leave. He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan of action was, but for the time being he picked a random direction, walking toward the Guest Services desk. 

Prompto could only watch as his guest walked away, leaving him standing there all alone in the lobby. His arms fell to his sides, shoulders slumped. As he chewed on his lip, he studied the back of Ignis’ head, curious about the large hiker’s backpack the guest had strapped to his back that he hadn’t noticed until now. He wanted to ask about it, but he held his tongue. Ignis… was a guest that didn’t require assistance. He’d dealt with his fair share of disinterested aquarium guests in the past, but for every rude and dismissive customer there were immediately twenty more who were happy to see him. He’d never had time to dwell on being rejected before.

“Well… if you decide you need assistance, or want another photo taken, or...whatever, we’re…here. You know our name, right? Prompto Argentum.” Prompto lifted his hand as he smiled, almost sadly. “You’re going in the right direction, though. Guest Services is a great place to start. You can get your….admission ticket there. If you change your mind.”

Ignis flinched, but continued on his way as he stepped behind the desk. He didn’t dare look back; not only from worry that Prompto would start talking again, but also because he was sure that if he saw that simulated look of disappointment on the A.I.’s face, he would start forgetting the reason why he was here; forget that Prompto wasn’t human. He had a job to do. An important job. Worrying about hurting an A.I.’s ‘feelings’ wasn’t on the agenda.

Ignis turned Guest Services upside down. If there was a drawer, he rolled it open. If there was a cupboard, he peered inside. A shelf? Any and all objects he found were thrown to the floor, sorted through. He rifled through papers, office supplies, books, anything he could find in hopes that he would find something useful among the junk. He pocketed some box cutters and even a few pens and notepads, just in case they would come in handy at a later date. A single gil was hidden inside a former employee’s pencil holder. 

Unfortunately, Guest Services was a bit of a bust.

He left the area, wandering over to some of the other service kiosks stationed in the lobby, searching them thoroughly, until he came at last to the kiosk at Prompto’s photo station.

Prompto’s kiosk was spotless; clean, not even a speck of dust to be seen on its surface. Come to think of it… the entire lobby was the same. Immaculate. Presentable. It was as if it were untouched, like the world beyond the walls of the aquarium was part of another dimension, an alternate universe, and the Argentum Aquatic Centre had remained frozen in time. If it weren’t for the empty, long since evaporated aquariums decorating the lobby, Ignis very well could have believed it.

It was… unsettling.

As he rummaged through Prompto’s photo supplies, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for doing so, like he was invading Prompto’s privacy. Comparable to if he had broken into his bedroom and was sorting through his underwear drawer. A machine couldn’t have any personal belongings, right? They had no concept of privacy, of having property. But the longer he remained at Prompto’s station, the more he swore he could feel Prompto’s gaze searing into him, so intense it was moments away from setting his ash-blond hair aflame.

Ignis slid the drawer closed.

To feel even a hint of guilt was incredibly silly. Preposterous. Prompto. Was not. Human. He had to remind himself of this. The mascot was proving to be a distraction. He was getting nowhere in his task. He had to remember why he was here in the first place. Supplies. Information. Anything. He had to gather what he could, then leave. As soon as possible, as quickly as possible.

But despite his priorities, he couldn’t seem to tear his mind away from the android. Everything about his existence was perplexing to Ignis. The way he spoke, moved, and even smiled looked so  _ human _ . If he hadn’t glitched out when he did, he would have continued on being under the impression that he really was an everyday human employee.

An employee, seemingly all alone in this large building. 

Why was Prompto still here? How was he still functioning, if there was no one here to maintain him? Why was---

“Still doing okay over there? Don't have a hankering for...say, another photo or anything?” 

Ignis jumped, startled as the sound of Prompto’s voice crashed his train of thought. 

“No, Prompto.” Ignis exhaled slowly. 

“Ah. Okay. Cool. Just reminding you that we’re still here. We’re still available if you have any questions. Don't hesitate to give us a shout or anything, okay?”

Ignis didn’t reply, but for some reason, he dwelled on what Prompto had just said to him. The whole time they’ve conversed, something stuck out about Prompto’s speech that he couldn’t quite figure out. Something odd. Unnatural. 

_ “We.” _

_ “Us.” _

Ah. That would be it.

Overcome with a sudden flood of insatiable curiosity, Ignis left the photo kiosk and walked over to where he had left Prompto. Prompto perked up with a smile, ready to be of assistance, but Ignis wasn’t interested in the services he was providing. He intended to explore just how intricate this A.I. was.

“You speak peculiarly. Is there a reason for that?” Ignis asked, cutting Prompto off from whatever else he was likely going to say.

“What do you mean?” Prompto asked. His expression showed confusion, almost innocence. 

“You refer to yourself as ‘we’ and ‘us’ instead of ‘I’ and ‘me’. Is there a reason? Part of your programming? Some sort of quirk that pertains to the ‘Prompto Argentum’ character? A marketable trait for merchandising and brand recognition, perhaps?”

Prompto shifted his weight onto his other foot, glancing to the side, then back at Ignis again. “We… don’t understand what you mean,” he replied quietly. 

“The way you speak isn’t normal, to a human. You’re an A.I., so I’m not sure if you can understand this concept. But ‘we’ and ‘us’ are pronouns generally referring to a group of people that includes yourself. Plural, not singular.”

Prompto didn't reply. Ignis wondered if this type of questioning was outside of his programmed social capabilities. 

To his surprise, Prompto spoke again.

“We’re not singular.”

Ignis quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly, this conversation had taken an interesting turn. “Oh? Can you elaborate?” he asked as he stepped closer to Prompto, studying his expression and stance as a whole.

“There’s thirteen of us.” Prompto moved his arms around himself.  

“Please expand on that statement, if you would.”

“We… are one.”

A pause. Ignis opened his mouth to offer another word of encouragement, but stopped short as Prompto interrupted him, the words flowing from him willingly.

“We are part of a collective… cloud. We’re... not sure how to explain it. We...share data, we communicate with one another, we are one in the same. At the end of the day, we connect to the Argentum Cloud server and share data with each other. Stuff like how many photos we processed and developed at the end of each day, how many people we referred to the gift shop, how many times people smiled and talked to us. The number of guests that came through the front entrance of the aquarium. That kinda stuff. Statistical things. We also share any strange or conflictive things that we may have observed in a typical work day, whether from guest interaction or between staff, or ourselves. The administrator told us that we’re a family. Like… we’re all brothers, we guess. All thirteen of us.”

Prompto shifted his weight again, this time moving a hand to his butterfly-shaped bow tie, fidgeting. “Wow,” he said, a nervous laugh bubbling, “Are we allowed to release that kind of information? Uh, don't think we are. Crap. Little too late for that now, huh?”

Ignis, too, was surprised that he offered up that information to him of his own accord. Maybe he really was ‘broken’. “Intriguing. So you’re saying that there are multiple ‘Prompto’s? You are not the only one?” Ignis asked. 

Prompto’s uneasy expression was wiped clean and replaced with a cheerful one instead. He grinned, his eyes crinkling a little at the sides. “Yep! That’s right! Thirteen of us. One for each aquarium, all across the world. Well, one actually has two of us, but that’s a whole other situation. It’s pretty cool. No matter where you go, there’s always a familiar, friendly face!”

“Ah. So that explains why you’re the mascot. You can truly be in multiple places at once.” Ignis smirked.

“That’s right.”

“Your appearance differs, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Ignis recovered the brochure he had been given earlier from his pocket. He unfolded it and held it up to Prompto. “The cartoon character shown here is meant to be a rendition of you, correct? At first glance it looks to be accurate enough, but upon closer analysis, it appears the artist omitted your freckles.”

“Freckles?” Prompto asked quizzically.

“Yes. The darker, speckled markings on your face. On your… skin.” Was an android’s body still considered to have ‘skin’ on the outside of its core? How else could he describe it?

Prompto’s freckles decorated his cheeks, running across his nose as if the universe had taken a paintbrush and ran a stroke across his face, leaving a small galaxy behind. There was no way that they could have been overlooked. They stood out, much like his bright blue-violet eyes. It was an important detail. Perhaps the artist was lazy?

“Oh. Those are… a stain. They.. don’t come off.” Prompto sounded unsure, or was reciting a default response. 

“Then, you’re not supposed to have them?”

“‘Prompto Argentum’ has no ‘freckles’, we guess. Our twelve brothers don’t have them. We’ve seen photos, and all of the promo material for the aquarium doesn't show any ‘freckles’ in any drawing or photo of us, either. So if you really wanna get technical, then that makes us inaccurate to the brand image.” 

“So you’re one of a kind, out of thirteen.”

“We guess so. Or.. maybe we’re the only one, now.”

Ignis looked at him questioningly, and Prompto frowned, averting his gaze. 

“....We’re...not sure if there’s thirteen us of anymore,” the blond said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

Prompto looked like he was fighting with his thought processes, again. Was this also classified information?

“We haven’t been able to connect to the server for a very long time,” Prompto continued slowly. “After everyone here, the staff, the guests, left… the server’s been unavailable. We’re not sure why. No matter how many times we connect to it, no matter when or where or how we connect, the connection is always refused. We think the server may have… crashed, or… has been placed in indefinite stasis. We’re not sure why.”

“I see.”

“We’ve…been alone, for a long time. We can’t talk to our brothers, or detect their presence. There’s no signal at all. We can’t pinpoint their locations, can’t even have that peace of mind that they’re even  _ there _ , y’know?”

“Is it just you here in this place, then? Or are there other humans or A.I. units living here as well?” 

“Nope. Just us.”

“How long have you been alone?”

Prompto fell silent for a moment, his eyes darting as he calculated the precise amount of time. “Just a little over ten years, now.”

Ignis’ eyes widened.

Ten years. 

He’d had a feeling that that would be the case, but he’d also been hoping that somehow, the circumstances surrounding both Prompto and the aquarium as a whole would have been different than the rest of the world.  _ Ten years. _ Had Prompto been waiting for a guest to serve for ten years? Had he been standing here in the lobby all alone every single day, waiting for a sign of life to make itself known? Waiting, waiting, waiting, unproductively, for  _ ten straight years _ ?

The more Ignis learned about this place, the more Prompto was beginning to paint a very interesting, yet melancholic, portrait of loneliness.

“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been on your own for such a long time, Prompto,” Ignis said softly. “That must have been arduous to go through.”

He couldn't even imagine what that could have been like. To spend ten years without seeing or speaking to another person… it would be a recipe for madness. But for an A.I… would it even matter?

“No biggie, dude,” Prompto replied. ”We can’t understand what it feels like. We can only look up the definition and understand the concept. We don’t actually  _ feel  _ longing, or loneliness, or sadness. We only know what we are programmed to know.” He gave a little shrug.

“Which is?” Ignis asked.

“Our directive.”

“And what is your ‘directive’?”

Prompto gestured to the entire lobby surrounding them, his arm drawing a large circle.

“The First Floor main entrance lobby is our Directive Zone,” Prompto explained. “We hang out here all day. It’s our… duty. Our job. We greet customers, we smile, we talk with the kids, we take photos of guests on their way in and out. We perform basic customer service, such as... providing information, kinda like a mobile information booth. We show them where the bathrooms are, the cafeterias… We show them the way to the serpent exhibits, or any other attractions they ask about. We are literally a customer service supercomputer! Happy to serve! Afterall, a happy customer makes for happy upper management!” Prompto struck a pose, making finger guns at Ignis as he grinned wide.

Something about the way Prompto spoke about his purpose in ‘life’ was rather… endearing. Ignis couldn’t help but smile as well.  “Sounds like you are a very useful and important part of this aquarium,” Ignis said warmly.

Prompto’s grin turned into a sheepish smile as he rubbed at the back of his head.  “Heh. Thanks. It’s our job to make sure everyone has just the  _ greatest _ experience every time they step through those doors! If they don’t feel right at home by the time they leave, like they’re a part of our family, then we didn’t do our job right.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made me feel welcome,” Ignis admitted. “It's a pity that I'm not actually here to indulge as a paying customer.”

“Funny you should say that, because guess what? It's never too late to change your mind!” Prompto chirped as he stepped beside Ignis, nudging him with his elbow. “Sure you don’t wanna know which exhibit we recommend?”

Ignis had already wasted more time conversing with Prompto than he had intended to, and yet, he couldn't help but play along. Prompto was very good at his job. It was starting to get difficult to turn him down, to ignore him completely. “Very well. Which exhibit is number one on Prompto’s recommendation list?” he asked.

“Amazon,” Prompto offered quickly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The Amazon exhibit. It’s not aquatic, well, not entirely, but guaranteed, it’ll be the part you tell your friends about later!” Prompto winked, raising a hand to his butterfly bow tie so he could touch the middle, the ‘wings’ flapping with each press of his fingers. No doubt that kids probably  _ loved  _ that gimmick.

And apparently, Ignis did as well. The absurdity of the sight made a chuckle rumble in Ignis’ throat, the sound surprising him as if it had come from someone else; a ghost behind him, perhaps. Just when was the last time he had laughed? “I have my doubts, but thank you for the recommendation regardless. And just what would one find in this ‘Amazon’ exhibit, pray tell?”

“Oh, y’know. Birds, reptiles, turtles, and our personal favourite: frogs. It’s its own self-sustained ecosystem! There's trees, ponds, little waterfalls… At least, according to Sania. We’ve… never actually...been in there. Heh.” Prompto fiddled with his bow tie again . “That exhibit was Sania’s ‘nest’; her words, not ours. She knew everything there was to know about it. She practically lived in there. Fed the animals, cleaned, everything. She kinda had a thing for the frogs, especially. She used to joke that she was actually a frog trapped in a human’s body. We actually believed her until one day she had to sit us down and tell us the cold, hard, not as fun truth.”

“Sania?” Ignis asked curiously. 

“Sania. She’s the co-administrator of the aquarium. She’s in upper management. She chose to take full responsibility of the Amazon exhibit, even though it’s not technically part of her job. She’s incredible. She's smart, funny, and really kind. She’s..our best friend.”

“ _ Your  _ best friend?” Ignis inquired.

“Yes.”

_ Interesting. _ An android understood the concept of friendship? Ignis felt inspired to ask about something else.

“As in,  _ all  _ of the Promptos?” Ignis asked.

“No.”

“Then… what exactly do you mean, Prompto?”

“We’re...not sure we follow?”

“Are there multiple Sanias, all residing at your sister aquarium locations as well? Is she also an A.I., part of a large interconnected network?”

“No, that’s not it. She’s…  _ our _ friend.”  Prompto looked frustrated, like he was struggling to find the right words.

“Yours? So, yours and yours alone, and not the network’s? Your brothers don’t have a relationship with her like you do?” Ignis pushed, experimenting with the limits of Prompto’s programming. He couldn’t help it - the  ‘our’ and ‘we’ speech patterns and meaning was hard for him to let be.

Prompto bit his lip as he averted his gaze. Astrals, he looked so  _ human _ right now, the way his eyes were darting and the way he was kicking the tip of his boot against the floor in what could only be frustration. Just as Ignis thought, singular personal pronouns were not at all allowed in Prompto’s programmed vocabulary. “My”, “I”... it was as if they were edited out, conveniently omitted for unknown reasons. 

“You know what we mean,” Prompto said dejectedly, his shoulders slumping.  “She is… ours. Special. A friend belonging to... Us.” Prompto pointed at himself, thumped on his chest a few times in emphasis.

“It’s okay, Prompto. I understand.” Ignis offered him a reassuring smile. He almost felt bad for pressing him so hard,  but it merely was an experiment. He was satisfied with the results.

Prompto returned the smile, turning to face Ignis properly again. “Glad you get it, dude.”

‘Dude’?

This android’s programming was all over the place. 

As silence filled the air again, Ignis cleared his throat. He’d allowed himself to become far too distracted. What was he supposed to be doing, again?

Right. His task. His whole reason for being in this place. It wasn’t to become friends with the A.I. greeter, nor was it to gather data and write a research paper on the wonders of modern technology. It was to retrieve supplies. Ignis politely pushed past him, adjusting the straps of the backpack across his chest as if to give himself a reminder. Ah, yes.There needed to be things inside of this bag. Useful things.

“Now then, those supplies, if you would,” Ignis said, trying to sound as polite as he could. “As lovely as the Amazon exhibit sounds, I’m afraid I won’t have the time to partake in an exotic safari today.”

Prompto rubbed his chin. “Resourceful things, huh…. You… can try the gift shop? It’s filled with all kinds of cooooool things!” He whipped out a frog keychain from his pocket, giving it a squeeze of his fingers, resulting in a low  _ croak  _ sound. “You can get one of these bad boys in there. Recommended! Prompto tested, Carl approved.”  _ Croak, croak _ , it went, as Prompto squished it like it was going out of style.

Ignis couldn’t remember the last time he had seen something so ridiculous. And who exactly was Carl? Sparing himself the explanation, he tried not to give away any hint of amusement as he carried on, determined to follow through with his task. His own ‘directive’, as it was.

Ignis spotted a wide doorway not far from where they stood, a banner fastened above the entrance that read in a clear, large font: “Gift Shop”. Well, that was easy enough. He headed over to the entrance, feeling more confident that he would find something of use in there than he had over at Guest Services or at the kiosks. As he walked, he heard the sound of Prompto’s fish-finned boots trailing behind him, the tapping almost rhythmatic. The feeling of being followed made him uneasy, but he knew that at this point, he could trust Prompto. He doubted the boy would suddenly whip out a gun from those poofy fish-patterned pants of his any time soon. Unless, of course, it was a water gun, which honestly wouldn’t surprise him if it was part of his whole getup.

The light and carefree footsteps stopped the moment he stepped inside of the shop. He turned and saw Prompto standing just outside of the entrance, tapping the toe of his boot experimentally right where the linoleum flooring turned a different colour, separating the lobby from the store. He quickly withdrew when he almost crossed over before repeating the motion again, like he was playing a game.

“If I recall correctly, your primary function is customer service. Am I not a customer, browsing for supplies? Shouldn’t you assist me?” Ignis asked, puzzled by Prompto’s odd behavior.

“Directive.”

“Pardon?”

“We can’t leave our Directive Zone.”

“Earlier, you gestured to the entire lobby. That being so, shouldn’t the gift shop technically be a part of your ‘zone’?”

“Nope. You’d think it would make sense for it to be, right? We’ve asked the administrator probably a million times to include it, but we don’t think he wants us in there. Our place is in the lobby, greeting guests. We’re not a cashier or a sales associate. We can only make recommendations and show guests the way, make sure they get to where they wanna go. We can’t step past this line.” Prompto tapped his boot again.

“I see.”

There was a line?

No, no. No more questions. He really couldn’t afford to waste any more time. 

The gift shop was typical of a common tourist trap. Walls and racks and shelves filled to the brim with overpriced, useless merchandise. T-shirts, sweatshirts, necklaces, plush toys, snow globes, plastic models of sea creatures… none of it was helpful. In the far corner, there was a large cardboard cutout of ‘Prompto Argentum’, the artwork bright and colorful as the character held up his camera, a peace sign flashed with the other hand, an exaggerated grin on his face. Beside him was a rack of Prompto themed children’s T-shirts, and on the other side a display of Prompto plush toys and boxed action figures.

Ignis walked right past the display, finding it to be… somewhat unnerving.

He headed for the checkout kiosk next, the surrounding area decorated with keychains, including the same croaking frog keychain that Prompto had. Nail clippers, bumper stickers, postcards, knick knacks that served no real purpose. What did debatably serve some purpose, though, was candy. Chocolate bars. Cookies. Every possible type of junk food one could imagine, most rebranded to have Argentum Aquatic Centre themed packaging, hung on pegs and stacked on low shelves near the cash registers.

Food was food, even if said food was unhealthy junk food that may or may not be expired.

Ignis stuffed the food that was least likely to have perished into his bag. He had no interest in consuming confectionaries, though even he couldn’t deny that a chocolate bar was a little tempting right now. What he picked up next, however, was not. A small plastic package with a cartoon monster on the front, sitting on a pile of round, green globules. The description of “sour apple flavoured candies” written on the bottom. 

“Tonberry Poop”, the large text on the top read.

Why?

How was that appetizing?

Ignis knew someone who would likely get a kick out of it; eat the entire bag in one sitting, even.

Into the backpack the Tonberry Poop went.

Food, no matter how unappealing and strange, was still food.

Finishing up at the candy section, Ignis grabbed a couple of nail clippers that hung beside a row of bottle openers and added them to the bag before he stepped around to the cash register side of the checkout counter. This was hardly the first time he had looted a place over the last few years, but despite he still felt guilty. Wrong. He was an honest man, and yet here he was, reduced to looting an aquarium of its candy and what he hoped would be a full cash register.

It was not.

The register was half popped out of the drawer, sliding out the rest of the way with ease. It had already been cleared out, save for a couple of gil.

Money was money, no matter how little. 

Someone had thought to remove the money from the cash register, and yet everything else in the gift shop was practically untouched, save for a few discarded items scattered on the floor.

Just what exactly had happened here, in this aquarium, on the last day Prompto had served a guest?

Fortunately, someone here knew.

Ignis looked back at the gift shop entrance, to where he had left Prompto moments prior. Leaning against the door frame, Prompto’s attention was averted from Ignis temporarily and was instead focused on his camera, fiddling with it as he stared at the screen with a look of what Ignis could only describe as pensiveness. What was going through his thought processes right now?

However... none of this concerned him. He didn’t need to know what had happened in this place. It had no use to him, this information. To ask about it would just contribute to his already accumulated lost time. 

Ignis decided to take one more round of the shop, salvaging anything else useful that he could, though it wasn’t very much at all. As he wandered back to the far corner of the shop, he felt oddly compelled to slide one of the Prompto Argentum plush toys into his bag when he passed by the display again.  _ Just in case we happen to come across a child on our travels that needs cheering up _ , he told himself.

Or maybe, deep down, there was a part of him that wanted to have a souvenir of this peculiar place, something to remember the strange A.I. he had come across. It wasn’t like him to be sentimental, but so far this experience had certainly been  _ unique _ , to put it lightly.

Deeming the shop officially combed over, he slid his bag over his shoulder and headed back to the entrance. Before Prompto could greet him, Ignis cut him off, unable to dismiss the other questions that had begun to plague his mind while he was busy pillaging.

“You’ve been here on your own for a very long time,” Ignis began gently, getting right to the point as he stepped around the doorframe, leaning against the wall beside it. “Tell me, Prompto, about the last day the aquarium was occupied by both guests and your fellow staff members. What is the last thing you remember?” 

Prompto’s smile seemed to melt when he realized that Ignis was once again not asking about any of the services he offered. He shifted, frowning as discomfort washed over him, noted by his expression to his posture, from the question. “Just a sec. Gotta access the records,” he replied, closing his eyes. He was silent for a moment, and Ignis could hear a low hum of what he assumed was Prompto’s processor as his system brought up the relevant data.

“There was… a lot of noise. A lot of disruptions. Lots of running people. We.. didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t like a normal day at all. It was so busy, and usually it’s pretty crazy here, but like, it was… different?”  Prompto said after a minute, struggling to find the right words to describe the experience. “No one wanted to stop for a picture.”

“Everyone left, didn’t they? Everyone left the building. All of the guests, all of the staff.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you leave with them?”

“We couldn’t. Remember? We can’t step outside of our Directive Zone.”

“So what did you do instead?”

“We stayed at our photo station while all of this was going on. This kind of situation was not part of our programming, so we had no immediate guide to reference and follow. There was just...so much happening… we couldn’t even process it all. It wasn’t until Sania ran over to us that anyone even noticed we were still there. She tugged on our hand, saying that we needed to go with her, that we had to leave too. We didn’t understand. We tried to explain that we had to stay here. We told her that it was our directive, and it meant that it was the right, and only, thing to do. We couldn’t leave. Literally. It’s impossible. We’re programmed to stay here. It’s… our purpose. It’s all we know.

“She was crying. She...looked almost...angry, at us. She searched for her key card, but she didn’t have it on her. She muttered that there was no time, and she eventually gave up. We could tell she was really distressed by this. Someone big and intimidating that we didn’t recognize as a guest came out of nowhere and ordered everyone who was still around to leave the building as fast as possible. Sania hugged us tightly, said she was sorry, and that this was goodbye. She said that if we really couldn’t leave, then we should hide and enter hibernation mode instead. Not to come out until ‘circumstances changed’, she said. We obeyed. She’s….the co-administrator, after all. Even if it wasn’t a programmed command, it was still an order. So… we did just that. We hid.”

Ignis’ mind buzzed, overwhelmed with information. More and more questions rising all at once. “Where did you hide, Prompto?”

Prompto smiled sadly and gestured over to the Guest Services desk on the other side of the lobby.  “We hid under there. It was a little cramped, but we managed. Wasn’t so bad. We’ve sat in smaller spaces before. No biggie.”

“And just how long were you under there for?”

Prompto’s eyes shifted to the side. Calculating. Adding up the seconds, minutes, hours, and days from his daily logs. “Five years, two months, sixteen days, four minutes and twenty-two seconds,” he said at last. Prompto showed no hint of a simulated emotion on his face. It was clear that he had no true concept of time; the duration meant nothing to him.

Ignis’ expression, meanwhile, was the exact opposite. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at Prompto, wondering if he had heard him correctly. It took him a moment for that to sink in, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Five years. Prompto sat under a desk….for five years. All alone.

“What made you come out?” Ignis asked at last.

“We heard something.”

“What did you hear?”

“A voice. Or, what we thought was a voice at the time.”

“Did you see someone?”

“We thought it was a guest. Turns out it was just Carl.” Prompto shifted his weight to his other foot, looking disinterested.

“...Carl?” Ignis’ brow furrowed in confusion. Another employee? But Prompto said he was all alone.

“Yeah. Carl. He’s a ‘rainbow frog of legend’ that somehow escaped from Sania’s exhibit. We’ve been searching for him for a really long time. We’re not sure if he’s living out here permanently, but… he must be happy and living a good life if he’s still croaking and hopping around, right?”

“If you can’t leave your ‘zone’, then how is a frog still…” Ignis began. Did Prompto realize that if there were no staff maintaining the animals…

“Self-sustained ecosystem, remember? The animals in the Amazon exhibit support each other. We bet if you went in there,  _ like we recommended earlier, _ you’d be able to see for yourself,” Prompto hinted, wiggling his eyebrows. “Trivia time!  Did you know that some species of frogs have a recorded lifespan of up to fifteen to twenty years in captivity? The more you know!” He turned both of his thumbs up, a smiling cheekily.

Ignis knew next to nothing about frogs, but he never would have guessed that they could live that long.  His lips quirked upward. “Thank you for that fascinating tidbit,” he mused.

“Anyway,” Prompto continued, “as we were saying, we actually saw Carl today for the very first time  _ ever _ ! Y’see, he really likes this thing here.”  Prompto pulled out the frog keychain from earlier. “He likes the sound it makes. Whenever we hear him, we make the keychain croak and try to pinpoint his location, but… we swear he can teleport or something because he never showed himself until today. Can you believe it? He’s been playing this game with us for  _ five years _ . Five years! We know Sania  _ did _ say that he was bit of an asshole, but we underestimated just how  _ big _ of an asshole, we guess.”

Ignis’ eyebrows rose at the word ‘asshole’. He sure hoped Prompto didn’t use that type of language around the children. Why was it even part of his programmed vocabulary? Perhaps he was able to pick it up from his interactions with people. Sania sounded like quite the interesting person, at least.

“Right, so, before you arrived we eventually found him near the back of the lobby. He was… bigger than we thought he’d be. But… he sure was beautiful. The ‘rainbow frog of legend’ isn’t just a name for show. He really  _ was _ rainbow, all kinds of bright colours. All shimmery and slimy looking. But before we could get our photo... we… got distracted, and he ended up getting away.” Prompto frowned and stared at his boots, hesitating before speaking again. 

“We just… wanted a picture,” he added after a moment, his tone somber, “Just  _ one _ picture. Was it so much to ask?  _ One _ picture. That’s it. To say hello, y’know? One picture to prove that he actually existed and it wasn’t all in our head. One picture to keep forever, to save on the memory card, then back up in the archives. One picture to remember him by… before he ends up leaving us behind, too.”

As Ignis watched Prompto, studying him, analyzing every word he had spoken just now, he began to wonder… was it just him, or did Prompto appear to grasp the concept of loneliness? Despite his denial of possessing such capabilities earlier… Was it really possible? The sentiment of keeping a photo for memory purposes. The fear of being left behind, forgotten.

Just what sort of A.I. was this?

“You don’t want to be alone,” Ignis concluded simply.

Prompto gave him a funny look, then shook his head. “Dude, remember? We already explained it to you. We have no concept of---”

“Prompto. You just gave the impression that you very much do.” Ignis’ words were firm as he watched him intensely, his green gaze practically burning holes into Prompto’s blue lenses.

Prompto fell silent. He didn’t move a mechanical muscle, but Ignis could hear the soft hum of his processors working away, doing overtime, likely going over what exactly occurred between them just now.

“Oh.”

And that was all he had to say.

Ignis waited for something else, anything at all to follow, but nothing came. Prompto’s shoulders jerked unnaturally and for a second Ignis thought that he was going to have another strange glitch-out like he had earlier, but nothing happened. Prompto looked calm rather than frustrated, standing there motionless, his hands at his sides.

“Haven’t you ever considered why there haven’t been any guests for ten years?” Ignis asked. 

Prompto’s fingers gently curled against his palms, his body tense. “It’s thrown off our schedule a lot, so it’s detected as an anomaly, but it isn’t part of our programming to ‘consider’ that sort of thing. We just continue on with the schedule every day like normal, make the best of it, guests or not.” His tone was almost short, annoyed. His cheerful disposition had disappeared completely.

Was it in his programming to act defensive, if the situation called for it?

“Prompto,” Ignis urged.

Prompto ignored him, turning his head to the side to look at something else that was far more interesting, such as the aquatic mural on the wall. 

“Prompto… there haven’t been any guests because there aren’t any guests, in general.”

Ignis wasn’t sure how to break this to him. He wasn’t sure what would happen, or if Prompto would even understand. But he wanted to try, to see what would come of it.

“Sorry, we don’t comprehend,” Prompto said quickly.

“All of the humans in this city, this part of the country - have left. They’ve evacuated. Everyone, and everything, is gone. Honestly, I’m surprised that this place is still standing, and that there is still electricity being supplied to it.”

“....Gone?” the blond repeated, a look of concern showing on his face. He took a few steps back, nearly stumbling backwards as his legs hit one of the benches lining the walls. He sat down, leaning forward slightly. Ignis could hear the hum again, but this time it was more akin to grinding. He wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if smoke began to puff out of his ears.

Prompto was silent for a good minute before speaking again.“There’s no humans around here anymore,” he said, a statement.

“That’s right.”

“No more tourists. They’re all gone.”

“Yes.”

“There won’t be any guests, ever?”

“Probably not. At least, not for a very long time.”

“...No guests. That means… we… can’t follow our directive anymore.”

Ignis held his tongue.

“We have no purpose now. If there’s no more guests, then we may as well just go into hibernation mode forever. Our directive is pointless if we have no one to assist. No one to photograph. No one to direct. No one to...make smile. We…” Prompto didn’t finish that thought. His eyebrows crinkled, and for a second he looked like he was going to cry.

Ignis continued watching him. Was he…? No, no. Prompto didn’t have emotions.

“Wow.” Prompto whistled as he sat upright again, the back of his head lightly thumping against the wall. His situation finally sunk in, hitting him hard, much like a boulder tossed in quicksand. After ten years, the reality of it all must be… “This is heavy.”

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, the gravitational pull on Eos has been intense as of late.”

“What’re we supposed to do now?” Prompto gathered his hands in his lap, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor. “We have no guests, our task scheduling program exploded and won’t launch anymore…”

“Exploded?”

“Yeah.” Prompto looked over at Ignis. “We have a program constantly running in the background. It walks us through the day and we have to obey it. But when you came around, it kinda went kaput. It crashed. Guests aren’t supposed to be in the building after 6:00PM and before 9:00AM, y’see, but because you appeared at 10:53PM, the program didn’t like that very much and it crashed. We can’t launch it anymore. Says it’s ‘corrupted’. So now we’ve got nothing to rely on for guidance.”

“I see.” Ignis couldn’t help but be a little amused at that. His mere presence had caused so many problems for Prompto and he’d had no idea. “So, why not take on a different directive, if circumstances have changed and you no longer have a schedule to follow?”

“It’s...not that simple. Only the administrator can re-write the directive program. And the administrator is gone. We can’t communicate with him. It’s something only he could do when we underwent maintenance.”

“Maintenance…. Does the administrator have a room that he would typically do this in?”

“Oh, you mean the ‘maintenance room’?” Prompto quipped, almost sarcastically.

“Why yes, that would certainly be the glaringly obvious choice, now wouldn't it?” Ignis remarked.

“It’s upstairs, smarty-pants,” Prompto shot back. 

Ignis smirked. “Shall we go upstairs, then?”

Prompto shook his head. 

“Directive Zone, remember?” he said, getting to his feet again as he gestured wide at the lobby around them. “We’re not allowed upstairs. We can only remain within the confines of our Directive Zone perimeter. We were only able to step outside it under special circumstances, like, if we malfunctioned or a kid thought it would be hilarious to throw a rock at us or something.”

“If you can’t step over these ‘zones’, then how did you gain access to the maintenance room? You said so yourself - it’s upstairs.”

“The administrator has a keycard. If you tap that…” Prompto slid up the band on his wrist to reveal a barcode printed on his skin, “on this, then you can gain access to ‘safe mode’. It puts us to sleep. It nullifies any restrictions. But we can still obey commands and walk like normal. We just… can’t speak outside of system messages, or, say, follow our directive. It’s a temporary override.”

“Did you have regular maintenance performed on you?”

“Once every two weeks. We guess it’s…been awhile. Heh. Lucky we didn’t break down at all during those ten years, huh?”

“So did someone have to escort you upstairs each time you needed maintenance, then?”

“Usually it would be the administrator, or another high ranking staff member if he was unavailable. Sometimes, if everyone was busy, they'd send us up on our own after activating ‘safe mode’, joking that it was time for our ‘lunch break’. Then we could walk up there by ourselves. We know where the room is. And when we’re in ‘safe mode’, we can actually run through the maintenance program on our own once we’re directly hooked up to the servers. If there was ever a problem, the system would notify the administrator automatically and he’d have no choice but to come and deal with it.”

“Do you require a password?”

“Usually the keycard overrides that kinda stuff. Everything is command prompt based. You can access menus and stuff with speech or manually if you connect us to a touch screen monitor.”

“Do you know if the program requiring you to follow a ‘directive’ can be disabled entirely?”

Prompto paused, considering it. “We… dunno. Maybe. We’re sure it’s possible, but it’s not really recommended. We’re supposed to have a directive programmed at all times. If the program was disabled or deleted entirely, we probably wouldn’t be able to function at all. We’d just be a lump of scrap metal. Wouldn’t be able to talk or do much, if anything. Not good.”

Ignis nodded as he processed this information, putting together all the pieces of the puzzle that was Prompto Argentum. “So, then… your basic function, your ‘reason to live’, is your ‘directive’. Your programmed tasks, your job, your ‘directive’ is to be the customer service representative and photo kiosk operator. And your ‘directive zone’ is your work space, the First Floor entrance lobby, and you are bound there by a programmed function within the aquarium to contain you within it. Correct?”

“Yep, you got it.”

“Were you excited when I arrived, Prompto?”

“We told you already, but we don’t know what ‘excitement’ feels like. We can only simulate it. But yeah. We… guess you could say that. It was… different. It felt right, to be serving a guest again. We’re not really sure how to explain it.”

“So if I were to leave you here, by yourself, with a broken task scheduling program and the possibility of never having another guest to serve for another ten years… What would that mean for you?”

Prompto went quiet again.  “We… don’t know,” he admitted.  “Like we said before.. We may as well just go into hibernation mode and never wake up.”

Ignis couldn’t believe how terrible he felt, right at that moment. 

“Prompto... It will happen,” Ignis began slowly. “Very soon, actually. I don’t intend to stay in this place for much longer. My companions will arrive here within the next twenty-four hour time cycle, and when they do, I will be leaving with them. I will not be coming back. You will be alone again. There will be no guests. There likely never will be, ever again.”

It was then that Prompto briskly turned and began to walk away from Ignis.

“Make sure you grab your souvenir photo on the way out, then,” Prompto murmured, waving his hand dismissively, “The voucher’s only good for twenty-four hours.”

Prompto…

Prompto… was upset.

Or rather, following a very accurate emotive program that allowed him to appear so.

“What will you do then, Prompto?”  Ignis asked, watching as Prompto continued to walk away from him.  “Will you remain here, forever? Alone, in a permanent state of hibernation? Would you really be content with that? You were hibernating for five years already, and spent five years following your schedule, technically not quite fulfilling your ‘directive’ as there were no guests present to accommodate. Were either of those five year periods preferable? Tell me… What is it that you  _ want _ , Prompto? What is it that you  _ want _ to do?”

Prompto’s steps slowed, then ceased completely as he stood still. 

“We…we’ve never been asked that, before.” His voice was barely audible, yet still showed wonder and even sadness. “We’re not sure if we have a ‘want’ function.”

“But you ‘wanted’ to take that photo of your rainbow frog friend. Taking photos of frogs isn't part of your directive.”

“Technically, Carl could be considered a guest.”

“True, but isn't it also true that your directive only applies to serving  _ human _ guests? Paying visitors of the aquarium? A frog can’t---”

“Okay, okay, we get it.” Prompto waved his hand again. Then he moved his arms around himself, his back still facing Ignis. 

“Will you remain here after all?” Ignis tried again.

Prompto jittered. He attempted speaking again, but all that sounded was a series of consonants. Ignis just watched cautiously, letting whatever was going on ride itself out. 

“We... don’t think there’s…  a point… in staying here,” he managed at last. 

This response surprised Ignis.

_ Interesting. _

“Oh? So you’re rebelling against your directive?” Ignis asked curiously. 

“....no response available.”

“Prompto, what would you do if I asked you to come with me? To leave this place behind?”

“We wouldn’t be able to,” Prompto said quickly, “We can’t leave----”

“Yes, however, you just gave up information, willingly, that it is indeed very much possible to override your directive. If you don’t have a programmed directive binding you to this place anymore, then you would have no reason to stay. You could leave, and never look back.”

A long pause. 

“No response available.”

There it was again. Perhaps this type of conversation was too complicated for his programming. 

“Prompto, are you okay?”

“Please standby.” The blond shifted and started tapping his foot again.

Or maybe….

“I’m having trouble determining if you’re having another one of your system errors, a ‘glitchy moment’, or whatever you’d like to call it, or if you’re just being a smartass,” Ignis asked, his tone light.

Eventually, Prompto turned to face him, his lips quirked, a hint of a smile.

“Prompto, are you avoiding--”

“We’re not capable of being a ‘smartass’,” the blond interrupted. “Isn’t that an emotion kinda thing? Sorta?”

“More of a personality trait, really. However, it could be in your programming to, indeed, portray yourself as a ‘smartass’, just as it is to be friendly.”

“Or it  _ could _ just be a figment of your imagination,” Prompto retorted, his voice sing-song as he twirled his frog keychain on his finger, “What do we know, anyway? We’re just a bunch of zeros and ones! We’re not human! No real emotions, no real personality, just a program! Nothing’s genuine! Are we a ‘smartass’? Who knows! Definitely not some guy pretending to be a guest, who decided to waltz in here  _ after hours, we might add,  _ and parade around in  _ our lobby, _ making a  _ gigantic mess _ that we really,  _ really _ wanna go and clean up right now, acting like he owns the place. And who the hell refuses a free souvenir photo, anyway? It’s a fifteen dollar value!”

Ignis cleared his throat. Well. That was certainly something. 

“My, my,” Ignis mused, “It sounds to me like you’re long overdue for maintenance, Prompto. Ten years is  _ far,  _ far too long. It appears that you’ve been infected with a ‘smartass’ virus. If you’re not careful, it might become permanently embedded into your programmed personality. How will you be able to assist the general public if you’re boorish toward your guests? Why, the Argentum Aquatic Centre would be on grounds to fire you at the tip of a hat for such rude behavior.” 

Even Prompto seemed surprised at his little outburst, his eyes wide as he brought his hand up to his mouth. Then, he relaxed. “Huh,” he said, a crooked smile growing on his face.  “Yep, that definitely would have gotten us fired. Tossed in a dumpster, to be precise. Wow. Uh.” Prompto glanced away, thinking as his hand moved to his forehead. “This probably means nothing to you, but our processor is chugging a ton and there’s a heck of a lot of popups spamming us right now. Something’s really messed up. Maybe we do need to have some maintenance done after all.”

“You’re literally having an internal conflict,” Ignis quipped. He couldn’t help it. As bizarre as this whole situation was, he couldn’t help but find it a little amusing as well. He felt a bit like a naive child, poking an electrical outlet with a fork just to see the sparks glitter, unknowingly creeping closer to when he would inevitably end up getting electrocuted.

Prompto made a small amused sound. “We guess so. Just.. give us a second.”

“Am I pushing your programming too far?”

“Probably. But it’s okay. We… think that this is something that should happen. Maybe.”

“I do apologise.”

“It’s fine.”

Ignis waited patiently, but Prompto didn’t say anything more. The blond stood there with a confused look on his face, his nose twitching every now and again, looking similar to a student during an exam desperately trying to recall the right answer.

“Moving along…” Ignis began, eager to get this all going once more, “Prompto, I’m going to ask you officially, now. If it is in fact possible to assign you a new directive, would you allow me to do so?”

Prompto’s silence continued, though this time he looked up at Ignis, his blue eyes wide and contemplative as he considered the facts, the possibilities, his foreboding gloomy future one last time.

“....Yes,” he said firmly. With finality.

Ignis smiled. 

“Shall we begin, then? First order of business: find that keycard.”

“Yep.” Prompto looked and sounded reluctant, but Ignis doubted he would back out of this now. Not after everything they'd just gone through together. 

“Would the administrator keep extra copies somewhere?” Ignis asked. 

“In his office. Which is also upstairs,” Prompto replied.

“Ah. So I’m on my own, then.”

“Yep. But if you give us a sec….” Prompto reached into his pocket, a ring of keys sliding out on his finger as he withdrew his hand. 

“Master key’s on this somewhere,” he said, running his fingertips along the jagged undersides of the clinking keys until one felt just right. He separated it, then handed it over to Ignis with a confident nod.  “This should get you into any of the rooms upstairs without having to bust the doors down.”

“Helpful, and convenient,” Ignis mused in approval. 

“Heh. We guess.”

“Very well. See you again shortly?”

“Uh huh. Can we ask for just one last itty bitty favor, though?” Prompto asked. "Can you please not steal anything else while you're up there? Loss and Prevention’s gonna flip when they see what happened in the gift shop. We  _ know _ you didn’t pay for any of that stuff, dude. We’re not security, so we technically can’t do anything about it, but… please?”

Ignis was already on his way over to the wide staircase leading to the second floor when he paused at the bottom. “If you could tell Loss and Prevention to kindly sit on it,” he quipped over his shoulder with a smile, “It would be most appreciated.”

Prompto’s jaw practically dropped, momentarily stunned. Soon, a laugh was born and he grinned, clasping his hands in front of himself politely. “All right, we…will certainly do that!” he chirped cheerfully. “Sit on it. Got it.” He paused. “Wait. Sit on what?”

Ignis continued to smile as he headed upstairs. It was getting a little easier to do that, now.


	3. CIRCUMSTANCES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are with chapter 3! Once again, thanks everyone for your support, and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Prompto and Ignis' adventure. <3

**DATA LOG #3: CIRCUMSTANCES**

 

The second floor of the aquarium told a drastically different story than the first.

Unlike Prompto’s Directive Zone, the second floor was not only dusty, it was a downright mess. Using the light of his phone screen to navigate, Ignis attempted to find any light switches on the walls, only to discover that they were already in the ‘on’ position. Active until the bulbs had run their course, the florescent lights above were no longer functional. Papers littered the floor; discarded brochures and garbage spread across the linoleum like an eccentric artist expressing themself. Recycling baskets knocked over; rubbish bins kicked to the side without a care, their contents spilling out from the slots. 

The immaculate state of first floor made all the sense in the world now. Prompto had been maintaining it, every single day he’d been operational, despite there being no reason to. Everything outside of his Directive Zone remained untouched, a portrait frozen in time of the last day there were humans here in the aquarium.

Ignis attempted to navigate the mess, realizing he’d neglected to ask Prompto where exactly the room in question was. He quickly ruled out the possibility of it being in the same areas as the exhibits and eventually found his way down what appeared to be a service corridor, an ‘employees only’ area. The master key he’d gotten from Prompto proved to be beneficial, as he used it to access any locked doors he came across during his exploration. However, many of the rooms ended up being unhelpful, containing janitorial supplies or general provisions for maintaining the aquarium. In one room he found some flashlights, and after testing each one to see if it still worked, he slid any with active batteries into his bag.  _ Helpful _ , he thought, keeping one on him to help navigate the dark floor with ease. He soon approached the end of the hallway and, with relief, found the two rooms he had been searching for.

“Maintenance.”

“Administration Office.”

He slid the key into the knob of the Administration Office, turned it, then pushed the door open.

He shone his flashlight around the room. Immediately it became evident that the office was in a similar state of disarray. The administrator, whoever that may have been, had clearly been in a hurry to evacuate, likely desperate to locate and bring along any documents containing private or personal information. Papers and file folders and even CDs were thrown around without a care, every drawer to every filing cabinet and computer desk hanging off its tracks. 

Ignis had no idea where to even begin looking for this alleged key card. 

He took a deep breath, readying himself for the task at hand before he dropped to his knees beside the desk and began his search. Setting his flashlight carefully on the desk ledge, he sifted through an endless flurry of papers, pulling the drawers completely out and dumped them on the floor. So far, nothing seemed to point him in the right direction, to give him any sort of hint pertaining to Prompto. 

Was Prompto doomed to remain here forever? Just what would happen if he crossed over his Directive Zone boundaries? Would he shut down? Self destruct? Right now it was a mystery, as Prompto had neglected to fill him in on all of the details. Perhaps not even he knew. This… keycard was all he had to go by, but if he couldn’t find it, then what would happen then?

Ignis felt driven by an unseen force. For some reason, he felt that he had to find it. He was  _ determined _ , like this encounter had been set in the stars, predetermined as if it were destiny that he had come across this strange android.

But why?

Ignis spent a grand total of forty-five minutes turning the room upside down. Just when he was about ready to give up, he finally saw it. He had to quite literally look upside down in order to catch a glimpse.

Wedged into the track of the desk’s upper drawer was a card attached to a lanyard. It took some effort to remove it, as Ignis didn’t want to risk cracking or damaging it in any way, and when it finally pulled loose, Ignis studied it closely. One side had what looked to be a bar code, the other the Argentum Aquatic Centre logo, a label with the words ‘RETURN TO SUPERVISOR IF FOUND’ taped beneath it. He wasn’t sure if this was the right card, but… it was all he could turn up in his otherwise unfruitful search. It was better than nothing; he had to at the very least give it a try.

Grabbing his flashlight again on the way out, he made his way back downstairs. He was greeted by the sight of Prompto waiting at the bottom step, right where the assumed boundary line was. The boy perked up and smiled when Ignis approached him, looking up at him much like a dog being presented with a treat; eager, curious.

“Is this it?” Ignis asked, presenting the card. 

Prompto barely glanced at it, but a glance was just enough for recognition as his face lit up. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s it! Nice work, dude!” The android grinned, taking a step closer to Ignis as he raised his hand for a celebratory high-five.

Ignis paused when presented with the gesture. It was going to take some getting used to, being around someone so… animated. After a moment he figured  _ why the heck not _ and accepted the high-five, a smile growing on his face. For some reason, he felt… excited, about all this. He was curious to see if it would work, and what would happen afterward. It had been awhile since he’d had his interest piqued in such a manner.

“Wonderful. Shall we, then?” Ignis suggested.

Prompto nodded, glancing away as he solidified his decision. “Yeah.”  He slid up his wristband, exposing the barcode beneath that looked tattooed, almost etched, into his skin.

Ignis took a moment to closely study the markings. The barcode was made up of the usual lines and numbers that were typical of a common barcode, but something about it made it look unique compared to anything else he had seen before. Vertical lines spanned across its centre, consisting of various thicknesses that separated into unparallel sections. A line of differing numbers and letters were found on the top and bottom, and framing the entire design were two symmetrical black diamonds at its left and right.

It looked... similar, to the barcode on the keycard. 

“You won’t be able to speak during this whole process, will you?” Ignis asked, recalling what Prompto had described earlier.

“Nope,” Prompto replied. “Only system-related messages. We won’t be able to give you directions.”

“Ah. Would you be so kind as to write them down for me, then? I’m afraid I’m not quite well versed in the world of technology, for the most part.” Ignis slid the backpack off his shoulders and fumbled around until he found one of the notepads and pens he’d taken from Guest Services.

Prompto was happy to oblige, jotting down the instructions far faster than any human could. When he finished, he handed the supplies back to Ignis with a smile. “Don’t mess this up,” he said, tone halfway between joking and serious.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence,” Ignis said dryly.

“It’s easy!” Prompto assured. “Just don’t go poking around in any other menus but the ones we wrote down and you should be fine. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Prompto raised his hand again, turning so the top of his wrist was facing Ignis, barcode accessible. He looked apprehensive, but despite he forced another one of his world famous smiles as he gave permission. “Go for it.”

Ignis hesitated, then placed the keycard over the barcode, tapping the plastic gently against Prompto’s skin. Immediately upon contact, the barcode began to glow, a ‘beep’ sounding from somewhere Ignis couldn't quite place. Next, in a mere instant, Prompto’s stature sagged like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His posture slumped, crumpled, and for a moment he didn't move or say anything at all, though his legs miraculously still held him upright.

Worried that something had gone wrong, Ignis’ hand hovered over Prompto’s shoulder, inches from making contact.  He jerked it away when Prompto instantly stood up straight again, like he had been jolted by electricity. A soft ‘whirrrrr’ followed, the call of a machine thinking, processing. It filled the air, continuing for a few seconds longer before it was followed by a mechanical shift.

Staring back at Ignis was the same Prompto he’d come to know, only now he resembled a blank slate. No expression, not even a hint of a smile; no wide eyes, no wiggling eyebrows or crinkled nose. His blue-violet eyes that so perfectly mimicked the spark of human life were depthless, the pupil faded into fragmented blue pixels. 

**“** **PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD. PASSWORD REQUIREMENT DISABLED. ACCESS GRANTED VIA KEYCARD OVERRIDE.** **”**

The voice that came forth was barely recognizable. Computerized, digital, and with no inflexion or emotion, the words fell from Prompto’s lips like a synthesized speech program. Ignis felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

**“** **USER IDENTIFIED AS ARGENTUM AQUATIC CENTRE ADMINISTRATOR.** **”**

Ignis’ breath caught in his throat.

**“** **PLEASE PROCEED WITH INSTRUCTIONS.** **”**

Distracted by the unnerving display, Ignis scrambled to get himself on track, fumbling with the instructions Prompto had written for him. "Maintenance," Ignis recited from the paper.

**“** **UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE DESIGNATE AUTOMATIC OR ASSISTED MODE.** **”**

"Assisted."

**“** **UNDERSTOOD.** **”**

Prompto began walking entirely on his own. His stride was mechanical, stiff like a human who had just forced themself out of bed in the morning. With the light in his eyes taken away, it was as if he were stripped of any simulated humanity in every way possible; his posture, his every movement calculated and programmed, unnatural. Ignis watched him cautiously, worried that his stiff movements would give him difficulty navigating the stairs, but every step Prompto took was planned. Pre-programmed into his routine, like a designated path.

Prompto led the way down the service corridor, all the way to the maintenance room. Once inside, he walked over to the desk in the far corner and stood beside it patiently. Ignis tried the light switch - of course, it was already on and burnt out, too - then pulled the flashlight out of his pocket to use again. There was a small console on the desk, hooked up to a display screen that had dangling wires hanging off the ledge. According to Prompto’s notes, this was what he had to hook him up to.

“Please pardon my reach,” Ignis said politely as he took Prompto’s hand in his own, letting his arm rest against the desk. Delicately sliding the band covering the ports on the underside of his wrist down, Ignis carefully popped the plugs into the ports accordingly, then pressed the console’s ‘on’ button.

Then, he waited.

Nothing appeared to be happening.

Brow furrowing, he regarded the written instructions so he could ensure that he had indeed followed them properly, then---

**“** **INITIATING MAINTENANCE MODE.** **PLEASE PROCEED WITH INSTRUCTIONS.** **”**

Prompto spoke again.

Despite the wavering confidence he felt in regards to the task that followed, Ignis had no choice but to carry on. 

"Please launch... Autosnaps.exe," Ignis said.

**“** **AUTOSNAPS.EXE LAUNCHED. PLEASE PROCEED WITH INSTRUCTIONS.** **”**

"Directive override."

**“** **KEYCARD NOT SUFFICIENT. REQUEST REQUIRES ADDITIONAL PASSWORD CLEARANCE FROM A TOP-LEVEL ADMINISTRATOR. PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD TO CONTINUE.** **”**

Ignis stared at the paper. He sure hoped he could pronounce this properly. "Besithia," he recited carefully.

_ Click, whirrr. _

**“** **PERMISSION GRANTED. PLEASE DESIGNATE NEW DIRECTIVE.** **”**

Ignis paused.

What if…

...

...No, he really shouldn't.

Everything he had been doing up to this point was partially to feed his curiosity. He wanted to help Prompto first and foremost, but he couldn’t deny that there was also that nagging desire in the back of his mind that told him to gather data about this mysterious android. He wanted to see what would happen if he tried just one little thing; it was almost silly, and yet...

...He couldn’t help himself.

"Free will,” Ignis stated simply.

The response was nearly instant.

**“** **DENIED. UNKNOWN COMMAND. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.** **”**

Ignis smirked. Ah. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. 

Exhaling slowly, Ignis realized that there was a very important part missing from Prompto’s instructions. 

Ignis had neglected to discuss this very important part with Prompto beforehand: the matter of what exactly his new directive should be. What was even possible within his programming? And more importantly, would Prompto approve of whatever directive Ignis decided on?

Ignis stood there, raising his gloved hand to his chin as he silently pondered. What could he do. What  _ could _ he do. What  _ should  _ he do?

Ignis was hesitant. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn’t quite comfortable with the thought of having this much influence over someone, even if that someone happened to be a machine. He would essentially be telling Prompto what to do. How to function. What would be  _ right _ , morally, for him to even suggest? 

The purpose of this was to give Prompto access to the world beyond the aquarium’s walls. To negate the need for ‘Directive Zone’ boundaries. What could he designate that would allow this, and at the same time, be vague yet clear in his intent to give Prompto something resembling free will, without actually  _ designating _ free will?

According to Prompto, his directive program worked in conjunction with his task scheduling program. It gave him a ‘purpose’, a ‘task’; it was very well his reason for ‘living’. However, now, his task scheduling program was broken, non-functioning. Because of this, could he find a way to bend the rules of his programming?

**“** **PLEASE ENTER NEW DIRECTIVE. SYSTEM WILL TIME OUT AND ENTER STANDBY MODE IN APPROXIMATELY ONE MINUTE.** **”**

Unable to spare another moment in silent debate, Ignis was forced to blurt out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Accompany Ignis Scientia, wherever he may go."

It was… not the best, he admitted, but for now it would do. This command, at the very least, would ensure that Prompto could leave the aquarium and go anywhere he pleased, do whatever he pleased, as long as Ignis was in nearby proximity. There was no specific task, nothing to conflict with his broken scheduling program. It was broad enough to grant him free will without actually programming him to have free will.

...Or, because it was on the vague side, it could very well result in Prompto being unable to do so much as speak; reducing him to nothing but an empty shell that would just follow Ignis around like a zombie. Or, he would be rendered immobile, unable to move at all. Simply a bricked computer system in the shape of a human.

They… could always come up with another one later, together, if this one didn't work correctly. It was fine. There was always a solution. They… would find something that would work.

He snapped back to attention when Prompto spoke again.

**“** **APPROVED. SEARCHING IGNIS SCIENTIA IN DATABASE. IGNIS SCIENTIA NOT FOUND. PLEASE RECORD A VOICE SAMPLE AND TURN TO CONSOLE FOR RECOGNITION SETUP.** **”**

Ignis turned so he could study the console that Prompto was hooked up to. On its front, he noticed what appeared to be a lens. Did it have photographing capabilities as well?

**“** **READY TO RECORD VOICE SAMPLE. PLEASE PROCEED.** **”**

Ignis cleared his throat, feeling very put on the spot, all of a sudden. What on Eos was he supposed to say?

“Hello, Prompto.”

Well. At least it was something.

**“** **VOICE SAMPLE SAVED. VOICE SAMPLE UPLOADED TO INTERNAL SERVER. PLEASE FACE CONSOLE. TAKING PHOTO IN FIVE SECONDS.** **”**

A shift, a flash of light, a click of a shutter, and it was done.

**“** **PHOTO SAVED. UPLOADING PHOTO TO INTERNAL SERVER. UPLOAD COMPLETE. READY TO PATCH FRAMEWORK AND PERFORM CORE SYSTEM REBOOT. PLEASE CONFIRM.** **”**

“Proceed.”

**“** **UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE STANDBY.** **”**

For a long while, Prompto didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Ignis hadn’t been informed of just how long this process would take, but he could only assume that it was not instantaneous. Circuits and fans whirred and stalled, starting up and stopping like the revving of an engine. Worry filled Ignis’ heart as he was left to stand there in the wake of the unknown. What if it didn’t work? What if he had done something horribly wrong? What if Prompto didn’t wake up? What if he had accidentally deleted something important inside of him, and he’d never function the same way ever again?

The minutes ticked by painfully slow. Ignis was on edge, unable to take the suspense any longer. He wanted to leave the room and for a moment he even considered it, only held back by his stronger desire not to abandon Prompto. He was the one who had done this to him. He’d agreed to help him. He’d promised him he would take him away from this hopeless place. In a short amount of time, Prompto had become his responsibility. He had to see this until the very end; it was the right thing to do.

Just when Ignis’ heart felt like it was going to burst from nerves, the loud  _ whirr _ ing that filled the room suddenly came to a stop. He perked up as he peered over at Prompto, the boy still standing there beside the desk, motionless, like a statue. 

“Prompto?”  Ignis asked cautiously.

Nothing. Prompto’s blank eyes continued to stare at the nothing in front of him.

“Prompto.”

Nothing.

“Prompto, can you hear me?” Ignis took a step forward and gently touched the boy’s shoulder.

Nothing.

“Prompto. Please say something.”

Ignis gave him a gentle shake, Prompto’s body swaying along with little fuss. He was limp.

Oh, Gods. What had he done.

His fear had been realized. He really  _ had _ done something wrong. The directive he’d given him was too broad. It didn’t work. It was insufficient. It was too simple, not specific enough. It wasn’t enough for him to function again.  He’d bricked him.

“Prompto!” Ignis grabbed both of his shoulders this time, gripping them firmly as he stared into his eyes. “Please, say something. Anything at all would help, really. I just need to know that you’re alright.  _ Please.” _

Ignis wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching Prompto, but his hands began to tremble, tensing from holding his stance for too long. Maybe this was it. He’d tried, but he doubted he would be able to do anything more for the boy.

Just when he was about to give up, he heard that  _ whirrrrr _ sound again. He swore he was going to shatter Prompto’s shoulders from how hard he was gripping them, but he began to relax when Prompto showed further signs of ‘life’. 

Prompto blinked slowly, the pixelated depths of his eyes changing to their more human-like appearance. He turned his head slightly so he could stare at Ignis, his brows crinkling, studying the taller man standing in front of him as if he were a complicated scientific formula written across a chalkboard.

“Ignis Scientia,” Prompto said at last, every syllable spoken slowly and pronounced. His voice gave a digitized warble at first, then stabilized as it switched to the perfect human imitation Ignis had familiarized himself with earlier.

“Y-yes, that’s right,” Ignis replied. Relief washed over him like a bucket of water.  _ Thank the Six. He wasn’t bricked after all. _

“Ignis...Scientia?” Prompto’s gaze remained on Ignis, violet-blue piercing into emerald green.

“That’s right, Prompto,” Ignis replied in a calm voice. “I’m Ignis. Do you remember? We met downstairs in the lobby.”

“Mister…. Scientia,” Prompto said. His eyes darted to the side.

“No, not ‘mister’. I gave you permission to just call me Ignis. Remember? Earlier, we took a photo together at your station, and--”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Prompto interrupted.

Ignis stepped away from the blond, removing his hands from his shoulders. “Ah,” was all he could say, momentarily stunned from Prompto’s change of tone and words.

“We’re just… we’re just trying to figure out what happened,” Prompto added. “Your name just keeps repeating in our head. Just...a sec… we’re… trying to clean up the mess in our system. Something’s… not right.” He reached with one of his hands to remove the newsboy cap from his head, holding it to his chest as he fell silent again.

_ Does he know? _ Ignis wondered.  _ Can he even tell? Surely he must.  _

“I overwrote your directive, Prompto,” Ignis said softly.

Prompto’s hands clutched the hat.

“....you…did?” he asked, his eyes widening as he looked around at his surroundings. He looked disoriented, confused. “We’re… in the maintenance room?”

Prompto looked down at his wrist, greeted by the sight of the cables sticking out from the ports. He almost looked scared, or even offended, and quickly plucked them out one by one. He then took a step away from the table, and another when he saw the console the opposite ends of the wires were connected to. 

“That’s right, I did,” Ignis said, his tone warm, kind, as if he were speaking to a frightened animal. “And correct, we are in fact inside the maintenance room. How do you feel, Prompto?”

“Remember, we don’t ‘feel’,” Prompto replied, taking another step back and nearly tripping over his own feet. Ignis reached for him out of reflex, but Prompto quickly righted himself by pressing his hand to the nearby wall.

“Yes, I know, I was more asking---” Ignis began.

“We _ know _ .” Prompto’s voice was harsh, sharp; almost annoyed. Ignis decided to stay quiet for the time being, lest his robot friend here was in the process of a literal attitude adjustment, and he wouldn’t  _ dream _ of disrupting  _ that. _

“Ignis Scientia.” Prompto set his hat back onto his head. 

Hearing his name spoken aloud so many times in succession made Ignis feel strange.

“‘Accompany… Ignis Scientia, wherever he may go’?” Prompto recited skeptically.

“I… apologise, Prompto,” Ignis interjected. “I was at a loss, I wasn’t sure if that was---”

Prompto smirked.  “Good one.”

Ignis blinked. “...I beg your pardon?”

“That’s… that’s a good one,” Prompto continued. “Really good, actually. Huh. Y’know, it might have been  _ too  _ good, cuz it’s...disabled a lot of stuff. We think we might----oh. Oh? Oh!” Prompto’s expression lit up with excitement, his processor whirring. 

What was he doing, internally? Ignis had no clue what was going on. All he could do was stand and wait while Prompto sorted himself. 

“We…have no boundary zones anymore,” Prompto spoke at last, awe and disbelief in his voice.

“Oh? So they’ve been disabled?” Ignis asked.

“Y-yeah. Wow. Uh. Holy crap. We… we’ve gotta test this out. Now! Right now!” Prompto paused, more revelations in progress. “Holy  _ shit _ . We’re functioning on the second floor, and not in ‘safe mode’. Not hibernating. We’re… actually…  _ functioning _ .”

Ignis chuckled. He doubted he would ever get over hearing him curse. “Indeed you are.” 

“Dude, do you realize what this means? Do you  _ know  _ what this  _ means _ ?!” Prompto’s excitement rose, much like his voice; nearly a squeak. 

“Regale me, Prompto. What does it mean?” Ignis mused.

“We…can go see the aquarium,” Prompto said softly. He was awestruck, like a child staring into the entrance of a large toy store.

“But I thought you already knew everything about it? It was your job, was it not?”

“Yeah, we  _ know _ it, but we’ve never actually  _ seen _ it,” Prompto clarified. “It’s like when a researcher can be an expert on, say, a thylacine, but they’ve obviously never seen one before with their own eyes, because that would be impossible. Extinction, dude. We’re an expert but because of our boundaries… our directive… we’d never been able to experience the aquarium firsthand.” He paused before a grin crept across his face like a weed. “Until…. Now.”

Ignis’ hand was snatched so quickly he barely saw Prompto move. “Wait, Prompto---” he gasped, scrambling to grab the flashlight on the desk on his way out, stuffing it hastily into his pocket. Much like when they had first met, the man found himself dragged along at the mercy of the aquarium greeter; out of the maintenance room, down the service corridor, and finally to the main area of the second floor.

Prompto stopped running and just stood there in the lobby, turning his head this way and that as he stared at his new surroundings. Ignis, meanwhile, couldn’t see a thing thanks to the lights still being burnt out in the area, but not even the darkness could put a damper on Prompto’s mood. Could Prompto see in the dark? If only Ignis had that function. 

“Wow,” Prompto said at last. “It’s true. It’s real. This is… this is actually happening. No zones. We didn’t shut down. We didn’t make any alarms go off. We’re  _ here _ .”  He started to laugh, happiness radiating in its purest form. Purest… simulated form. He grabbed Ignis’ remaining hand and forced him into a happy little jig, moving their arms from side to side and up and down as his boisterous laughter continued. 

“Yes, you most… certainly are,” Ignis replied, completely out of sorts by his animated companion. No one he’d known his whole life had had the gall to manhandle him like this. He didn’t mind it, really, it was just… different. “N-now.. If you’ll excuse me… I must get back to my task. When you’re done exploring the aquarium, we’ll meet back downstairs in the first floor lobby.”

The merry jigging came to a halt.

“Huh? No way. You’re not gonna come with us?” Prompto asked, looking and sounding like a child who had just learned that Santa Claus wasn’t real. “But… you’ve never been to the aquarium. Don’t you wanna see it? At least a little? It won’t take long, we swear. It’ll be fun! Promise!” He tugged on Ignis’ hands, attempting to lead him down one of the hallways that housed an exhibit. 

Ignis pulled his hands away and tucked them into his jacket pockets. “Prompto…” he began. About to go on a rant reminding Prompto of why he was here and what the two of them needed to do now, he stopped, holding his tongue as something came to him just then.

The aquarium, save for Prompto’s area of responsibility, hadn’t been maintained in ten years. 

It was very likely that there was longer an aquarium to regard any longer. Everything in this facility, save for the ‘self-sustained ecosystem’ of the Amazon exhibit, was probably dead.

Would Prompto even understand? He seemed to understand the concept of a frog’s life span during their earlier conversation, and apparently the concept of extinction, but did he  _ really _ ? Or was he merely reciting information lifted from his programming? 

“Prompto, I think we should perhaps skip the tour of the aquarium and make our way back downstairs together,” Ignis suggested calmly.

Prompto stared at him. “Seriously? We know you’ve got a ‘task’ and all, but… c’mon, it really won’t take long,” he tried again. “This is, like… the one thing we wanna do.  We know you probably don’t get it, but… This is something we’ve wished we could do since….” Prompto thought about it. “Since… we were first given our initial directive.”

“Yes, I understand that. However, I’m not so sure that your vision of the aquarium will be able to compare to the real thing.”

Prompto stepped closer to Ignis, his boots kicking a small pile of garbage that was stacked on the floor near them. “What do you mean?”

Ignis took a breath. “It’s… going to be… very different from the brochures, from what you know based on your information banks, Prompto. It’s been ten years, and… as you’ve explained to me prior.. You’ve been the only one here at the aquarium this whole time. If you were unable to leave the first floor, then the exhibits haven’t been maintained this entire time. The other floors of this facility have been untouched for ten years, that is, until you and I stepped foot up here just now.”

“We don’t comprehend,” Prompto replied. He stepped back again, stumbling around the litter that laid at their feet. He looked down at it, as if he were noticing it for the first time.

“Prompto---”

“Listen, we don’t care about all that. We just… we just really wanna see the Sahagin exhibit. That’s it. Okay? That’s…the exhibit that’s number two on Prompto Argentum’s recommended list,” Prompto kicked at the garbage, then began to tap his boot absently against the floor. “The kids… they’d come and gush to us about the Sahagin Deeps exhibit on their way out, after we took their photo. They’d tell us how cool the crocs were and then we’d bust out our fact sheets, and they looked at us like we were the coolest person on the planet just because we knew so much about ‘em. So just… Sahagin Deeps. Is that enough of a compromise? Then we can go back downstairs and do whatever the heck you want until we leave. Okay?”

Ignis sighed. How could he say no to that? “Very well.”

“Sweet.” Prompto grabbed Ignis’ hand and headed for the doorway labeled Sahagin Deeps, this time with less skip in his step than he had before.

Ignis’ heart felt heavy. He really didn’t want to do this. He pulled his flashlight out again so he could light their path, lest either he or Prompto tripped over debris as they went along. 

“Dude, get this,” Prompto began, filling the silence that hung in the air between them. “We remember the day when they first brought in the rarest animal we have in the entire place - the Coraldevil. Yeah, it’s not technically a Sahagin, it’s  _ actually _ a subspecies of Seadevil, but it’s close enough, right? Anyway, the aquarium hit peak attendance, broke some records, even. We went through an entire memory card and a half that day of guest photos! If you’re not sure how many guests that is, well, let us tell you, it’s a  _ lot _ .

“We’ve also got an Albinogin here. Not quite as rare, but albino anything is still hard to come by in general. That one was pretty popular with the kids. They’d tell us how the Albinogin - named Al - would swim right up to the glass and ‘wave’ at them. Dunno if it’s true, but we thought it was pretty cute. We think Al’s got some merch in the gift shop, actually.”

Ignis said nothing, letting Prompto ride out his initial excitement. While it lasted.

“Oh, oh, we’ve also got a Gurangatch. We’ve got a photo of it in the brochure, but man, the colours on that thing. They’re just unbelievable. They’re like a painting, aren’t they? You ever seen one?”

“No, Prompto.”

“Well then, prepare to be amazed!”  

Prompto let go of Ignis’ hand as he took the lead, stepping into the main room of the exhibit.

As soon as they entered, a foul odour immediately hit Ignis’ nostrils, causing him to recoil and resist gagging from the sheer intensity. His eyes watered and he covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve, turning his head to stare at his companion. Prompto appeared to be completely unaffected by both the smell and the sights in front of him, taking slow, measured steps towards the glass front of the enclosure before gently placing his palm against it.

From the tall ceiling to the floor stood a thick glass wall separating the massive habitat from the guest area, stretching both vertically and horizontally. The enclosure had been set up to be partial land and partial water, enabling guests to have an underwater view of the creatures when they were submerged as well as a view of the above water ledges they used to bask beneath the large heated lamps hanging from the ceiling.

It was an impressive sight. At least, it would have been, ten years ago.

Now, the water had long since evaporated; the once live plants that decorated the land portion of the enclosure had died and rotted away from the humidity and the searing heat of the lighting above. The bulbs had burnt out, much like the rest of the lighting on this floor, and scattered about the enclosure laid skeletal remains; bones with obvious teeth marks, some reduced to fragments, littered the ledges and piled at the bottom of the water tank as if they had been discarded, or even played with. The glass walls were sprayed with what one could assume was dried blood, cracked from impact in some places. And finally, on the far ledge of the habitat laid the only intact skeleton - what Ignis presumed was once the aquarium’s pride and joy, the Coraldevil - a massive beast that had reigned supreme over its fellow species, even in captivity.

“Who put all those bones in there? And where’s all the water? Kinda hard for partially aquatic animals to swim around if there’s no water, right?” Prompto observed as his eyes darted around his field of vision, taking in every little detail. Ignis could hear the sound of his processor, his ‘thinking noise’, become audible, increasing in volume as time progressed. As Prompto stood there, processing, he slowly picked up the camera that still hung around his neck and began to take photos through the glass.

Ignis couldn’t help but think that it was a melancholy, yet artistic, sight to behold; the cartoonishly dressed robotic shell of a young man, beholding a portrait of death and circumstances caused by the hands of the human race. Those beasts may have still been alive even now if they had been left to their own vices in the wild, in the outside world overtaken by darkness.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, the silent air beginning to grate on him. “Is everything alright?”

“We’re… researching,” was all Prompto could say before he fell silent once more, his eyes fixated on the enclosure. Studying. ‘Researching’, as he’d said. How?

“...they’re…” he said at last. He took a few steps away from the glass, letting his camera fall from his fingers and hang limp.

“Yes,” Ignis replied.

Prompto frowned. “....oh,” he said.

“This.. is what I tried to warn you about earlier, Prompto. I wasn’t sure if you would understand. The concept of life and death is---”

“...well, we understand now. Or, at least, we understand the definition. The scientific details,” Prompto said solemnly. 

Ignis wasn't sure how to describe the look on Prompto’s face right now. Could a robot’s spirit be completely destroyed?

“Sahagin and Seadevils are carnivores,” the boy began. “They... were starving. Their keepers weren't around for their scheduled feeding times anymore. They had no one to maintain the basking lights either, so they were probably also burning up from too much heat exposure. They had no choice but to turn on each other as a last resort to survive.”

Ignis was fascinated as he listened to Prompto speak. How much was pulled from his ‘research’, and how much came from his own deductions? “How did you determine this?” he asked curiously. 

“We just researched the most likely scenario for carnivorous animals being trapped inside a closed space with no external food source. Turns out cannibalism isn’t off the table when an animal is desperate to survive. They’ll do anything if it means there’s a chance to stave off the pain of dying, even if it’s just temporary. So these guys just annihilated each other because they had no other options. It looks like the Coraldevil ‘won’ though, but it couldn’t keep going either. Like… it ate all its food already, right? All its buddies. All gone. And with no more food to eat and with no way to properly regulate its body temperature… well, it’s easy to see what happened. It put up a good fight, but in the end, it was all for nothing.”

Ignis just stared at him. 

“The rest of the aquarium is... probably the same. Wonder what the state of the Liege of the Lake exhibit is like?” Prompto thought aloud.

Ignis said nothing.

“We... think we’re done looking at the Sahagin exhibit now,” Prompto added quietly, moving his hands behind his back. 

“I’m sorry, Prompto. I’m sure in its time, it was an exhilarating sight,” Ignis offered, though he was sure that it gave no comfort.

“Yeah,” was all Prompto said in return.

Prompto turned so he could leave, walking past Ignis. It was curious, what happened just now. After watching him go on without him for a moment, Ignis began to follow after Prompto, but lagged behind so as to give Prompto some space.

An A.I. had just learned about the concept of life and death.

What would an A.I. be able to do with that information?

Just then, there came the sound of a chime, loud enough to cast a small echo in the hallway. Ignis’ cell phone. A text? Ignis stopped walking while Prompto continued on, sliding it out from his jacket pocket. He’d received the notification just now, but already his screen was filled from top to bottom with multiple notifications, all from the same person.

‘ _ Sorry, we got caught up in something _ ,’ the first message on the screen read, beginning the long string of texts that preceded it.

‘ _ It’s a huge mess out here. We’re fine, though. Did you find anything we could use? _ ’

‘ _ We don’t know when we’ll be there to pick you up. _ ’

‘ _ Hang tight for awhile longer, okay? _ ’

‘ _ Sorry. Really sorry. We really didn’t mean to take this long. But you’re okay on your own for awhile, right? _ ’

‘ _ I just asked what our ETA is. Still don’t know. Just don’t die, okay? _ ’

‘ _ That was a joke, but I guess it was also serious too. _ ’

‘ _ Seriously though, don’t die. _ ’

‘ _ Since you haven’t texted either of us at all since we dropped you off, we’re going to assume you’re either fine, or dead. _ ’

‘ _ Please don’t be dead. _ ’

‘ _ Hey, how about a text? I’m starting to freak out a bit now. Seriously, are you okay? _ ’

‘ _ Iggy? _ ’

‘ _ Come on, anything. If you don’t reply in the next ten seconds we’re going to abandon this sitch and come find you. _ ’

The messages were rapid, appearing one after the other.

Ignis’ lips quirked in a small smile as he sent a reply.

‘ _ Rest assured, I haven’t perished yet. Can’t say the same for my wallet, though. I’m afraid I’ve spent all of our gil at the gift shop. I felt that you could use a new t-shirt. Tell me, are you a small or a medium? _ ’

As predicted, the response was immediate.

‘ _ Ha ha. Hilarious. I’ll take that as confirmation that you’re okay. Text us if you need anything, all right? We might be a few more hours yet. Sorry. _ ’

‘ _ Very well. Please don’t rush on account of me. I am safe where I am. You two please take care as well. _ ’

“Oh, you’ve got a cell phone too, huh?” Prompto’s voice pulled Ignis out of the virtual world. He stood at the entrance of the hallway, peering at Ignis from around the door frame.

“Yes, Prompto. Most people do,” Ignis replied curtly. “Especially in these times. It’s imperative to be able to communicate instantly and at any given time, in the event of an emergency.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Huh.” 

“Are you familiar with cell phones, Prompto?”

“A little, but it wasn’t necessary to our directive, most of the time,” Prompto replied. “We had a walkie-talkie to communicate with the other staff members, but no phone of our own. We only ever used one if a guest had trouble using our aquarium app and needed our help, or if they wanted us to take a photo of their family for them. Guests were always on their phones. Always taking photos of absolutely everything, stopping in the middle of ‘traffic’ flow and congesting the area.” He made a face. “Always ignoring our staff in favor of them. Always taking photos of us without our permission.”

Prompto stared absently at Ignis for a short moment, as if he weren’t entirely all there before he turned and began walking again.

Prompto was acting… strangely. ‘Permission’? Ignis couldn’t help but smile faintly, though, as Prompto’s comments reminded him of a human who had worked far too long in retail and was very much fed up with it.

Ignis said nothing more as he followed after his odd companion, his pace slower than normal.

He yawned.

The backpack he carried on his shoulders felt rather heavy all of a sudden, as if he were carting a small collection of bricks around.

Ah.

Just how long had it been since he’d had a full night’s sleep, again?

A very long time.

And any sort of sleep in general? Must be going on close to twenty-four hours, now.

“Prompto,” Ignis called, just as they were about to approach the stairs leading back down to the first floor.  “Slight change of plans, if you would.”

Prompto stopped, looking over his shoulder. “Huh?” 

“I’ve been informed that my companions are… occupied, and will not be stopping by for quite some time yet. Do you happen to know of somewhere quiet and… safe, where I could rest for awhile?”

Prompto considered this, tapping his finger against his chin.  “The cafeteria, we guess?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Oddly quiet, Prompto headed in the opposite direction of the stairs, leading Ignis along through the dusty hallways and quickly through some of the connecting exhibits. Ignis tried not to regard his surroundings for any longer than necessary, the foul odour assisting in his need to make haste.

When they reached their destination, Ignis shone his flashlight around the large room. The cafeteria was in an even worse state than the rest of the second floor, a pillaged mess from the fleeing occupants ten years prior. Furniture overturned, garbage, broken glass, rotting food spilled on the floor. Ignis wasn’t so sure he wanted to rest here now, but he was too tired to wander any further, too exhausted to care to find somewhere else.

As Prompto stopped so he could take some photos of the room, Ignis explored further, heading for the kitchen area behind the serving counters. Any hopes of finding additional food to bring along with him on his journey were extinguished instantly, as each of the cabinets, fridges and freezers had been left open and were completely empty, save for some of the heavier items. 

Sighing, Ignis removed his backpack and set it down on the floor, then slowly sank until his achy, tired muscles were satisfied. Stacked behind him were large sacks of rice, and while they weren’t exactly the most comfortable back rests Ignis preferred, they would do for now. Perhaps he could ask the stronger of his two companions to carry them out to the car later, assuming their contents hadn’t been spoiled by mold or an insect infestation. 

His eyes closed, head dipping forward as exhaustion washed over him, but was shortly jolted awake by the sound of boots clopping against the linoleum, approaching him from around the counter. “Hey,” Prompto greeted. He slowed, and there was the sound of a  _ clong _ as the tip of his boot accidentally sent an aluminum container rolling in Ignis’ direction. “Oops. Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem at all, Prompto. Did you find something of interest to photograph?”  Ignis asked, sitting up straight as he stretched his arms over his head, another yawn escaping him. He glanced to the side at the rolling container, reaching for it out of curiosity.

“Kinda? We’d never been in the cafeteria before, so… we kinda wanted a record of it,” Prompto replied. “Humans are really messy, aren’t they? There’s just… stuff, everywhere.” He sat down on the floor across from Ignis.

“A common theme for the second floor of the aquarium, wouldn’t you agree?” Ignis mused. “Evacuation orders tend to send people into a panic, and for good reason. They will grab anything and everything they possibly can on their way out, even if said items are not useful in any sense of the word. Most of the guests, however, were smart and brought along any food items from the cafeteria that they could get their hands on. There’s hardly a thing left.” Ignis picked up the container. He was ready to toss it across the room absently until what was written on the side of it caught his eye. 

_ Ebony. _

“They served Ebony coffee here?”  Ignis asked, glancing up at Prompto.

“Yeah, dude. Ebony brand coffee was one of the aquarium’s sponsors, we think,” Prompto replied. “When the reps stopped by, they always dropped off a ton of the stuff for free. Why do you ask? Oh, oh, wait, don’t tell me. Lemme guess. You’re totally one of those coffee connoisseurs. An Ebony fan. Signed up for the Ebony fan club and everything, right?” He grinned, raising his eyebrows. 

“I suppose you could say that, yes.” Ignis shook the can in a circle, predicting the quantity before he popped off the lid. He carefully poured some of its contents onto his gloved palm. The scent told him all he needed to know: It was without a doubt Ebony, however, it was... Instant Ebony. His least preferred form of Ebony, but regardless, it was a light in the darkness. Instant coffee had a much longer shelf life than whole bean coffee, so there was a high chance it was still consumable. How long had it been since he’d had a cup of Ebony? Time blended, much like said coffee.

“Sweet. Bonus! Maybe there’s still some more hiding around here. Lucky break, huh?” Prompto chirped with a smile.

“Indeed,” Ignis replied, placing the container inside of his backpack. “As tempted as I am to brew myself a cup right here and now, I’m afraid I will have to resist until after I’ve had my rest.”

“Rest,” Prompto repeated. He leaned back against the cupboard door behind him. Processing. “You’re gonna...go to sleep.”

“That’s right,” Ignis said. “Or at the very least, do my very best to make an attempt. Will you remain here, Prompto? If so, my only request is that you try to keep the noise to a minimum.”

“You’ll hardly even know we’re here. Promise,” Prompto said softly. He watched Ignis, staring as if he were looking at him for the first time. His messy ash-blond pomp. His glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose from the tilt of his head. The darkening bags of fatigue under his eyes. The curve of his finely tailored jacket collar, lined with a thick fabric that was no doubt warm in cold climates. The peek of a silken dress shirt beneath. A hint of a chain around his neck.

Ignis shifted uncomfortably. “Prompto?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring. It’s a little unnerving, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Oh. Sorry. We were just, uh…. We were wondering if it was okay to take another picture of you.”

Puzzled, Ignis inquired, “May I ask why?”

“It’s…a cool shot,” Prompto replied. “Where you’re sitting right now, coupled with your pose...” He smiled crookedly. “It’s okay if you don’t want us to, though.”

Ignis was a little confused, but…  “I don’t see why not. One photo, and then I would like to request to be left alone. Not to be rude, but I can hardly keep my eyes open, now.”

“You got it.” 

Prompto took his time adjusting his camera settings accordingly before he pointed it in Ignis’ direction. Then, there was a click. A flash. And it was done.

“Nice.” Prompto smiled proudly as he studied the preview screen, then turned his camera off. “Okay, we’re good now. We got the shot, so we’ll let you sleep. No more noise. No more questions. No more photos. We’ll just stay right here and make sure you get your good night’s sleep. Snore away, dude.”

Ignis smiled faintly. “Good night, Prompto.” He leaned back against the bags of rice, sighing heavily as he slumped and moved his arms around himself, his eyelids falling shut.

“Good...night, Ignis,” Prompto replied. He shifted, copying Ignis’ pose as he leaned back against the cupboards. He kept his eyes on Ignis, curious.

As Ignis’ breaths grew slower and heavier, his head tilted forward, chin tucked against his chest, the hum of his newfound companion’s processor lulled him into a deep sleep.


	4. VALEDICTION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with chapter 4, also known as the end of the intro! Thanks for sticking with me and Prompto thus far <3 <3

** DATA LOG #4: VALEDICTION **

 

Prompto had never seen a sleeping human before.

He’d seen guests pass out, then be carried away on a stretcher on the rare occasion when they’d had a medical emergency, but thanks to his recent research, he now knew that there was a stark difference between loss of consciousness and sleeping. He figured the closest he’d be able to relate was when he’d enter hibernation mode at the end of the day, back when he was still following his scheduling program. But even then… something about the way Ignis looked and sounded right now was just… different. Intriguing. 

Prompto watched the mysterious ‘guest’ for a while, studying him, experiencing firsthand what it meant for a human to ‘go to sleep’. Sleep. Recharge. He opened up his internal web browser and entered ‘define sleep’ into Moogle, and spent some time reading up on the subject. Studying. Filing away information. Now that he had no programmed tasks, no schedule to follow, he was able to do anything he wanted, at any time, even if said thing was filling his internal memory storage with seemingly useless information. The internet was… a fascinating place. The hoards of information were endless. And Prompto was curious. Very curious. 

Prompto could tell that he was going to spend a lot of his time on Moogle. Unfortunately, the subject he was most curious about, Moogle wouldn’t be able to assist him with. 

He’d tried, already; Moogling ‘Ignis Scientia’ didn’t turn up any results. 

‘Accompany Ignis Scientia, wherever he may go.’

He knew very little about the human his new directive was bound to. What kind of person was Ignis Scientia? What did he do for a living? What were his hobbies? His interests? What sorts of things did he like? What did he dislike? What was his favourite food? Where did he come from, with that unfamiliar accent he spoke with?

His folder on Ignis Scientia contained very little data. But now, at the very least, he could add one important piece of information to it: Ignis Scientia liked Ebony brand coffee.

Prompto got to his feet and left Ignis’ side for the time being, a specific task in mind. He didn’t return for about an hour or so, and when he sat back down, he felt rather… accomplished, similar to how he’d felt after completing his morning cleaning duties. He smiled to himself as he watched Ignis, still sound asleep. 

Prompto couldn't sleep like a human could, but he could pretend. He imitated Ignis’ pose once more, letting his eyes fall closed. 

A few more hours passed until the silent ambience of the kitchen was disrupted by the loud trumpet of a cell phone ringtone. Prompto jolted in surprise, the back of his head hitting the cupboard as he let out a yelp and hurried to scramble to his feet. In the past, the only time he would react to an inhuman audible noise was when he heard the chime of his scheduler, but that function was no more. Then why did the cell phone give him that strong of a reaction just now?

As Prompto thought about it, he stared wide-eyed as the just as stunned Ignis Scientia pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket at last. His movements were sluggish, as if the mere thought of existing as a whole was too strenuous for him right now. He yawned, long, loud and drawn out, then took the call. 

“Yes.”

Ignis held the phone to his ear, his free hand rising to his face so he could remove his glasses, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“Yes, I’m awake now. Otherwise I wouldn’t be answering my phone, now would I?”

His expression crinkled in what Prompto assumed was annoyance.

“I’m aware I sound tired, I just wo---- Please, just get on with it, will you? You know I don’t like having my time wasted on needless chatter.”

Prompto stared, curious.

“The Argentum Aquatic Centre.”

Prompto perked up.

“Yes. Yes, that’s right. It shouldn’t be far from where you are. It’s considered to be a landmark, and--- Were you really not paying attention when we parted ways? It’s hardly easy to miss. There’s a large fountain and sitting area in front of the main entrance, and an expansive parking lot leading up to it.”

Prompto smiled. He knew that fountain. He was a little excited to see it in front of him at long last, instead of through a glass door.

Ignis went quiet for a moment, his green eyes narrowing, listening intently to the person on the other line. Thinking. Processing? Could humans ‘process’? 

“That’s right.”

Ignis slowly stood, brushing his long grey winter jacket free of any dirt accumulated from the floor with his free hand. 

“I see. Very well. It is what it is. I’ll see you when you get here. I’ll be waiting out front.”

Ignis turned so he could take a step forward, but was stopped short by a stack of boxes at his side; boxes that weren’t there before he had fallen asleep hours ago. “Yes, I understand,” he said, eyebrows furrowing as he pulled out his flashlight and shone it around at his surroundings. 

Crowding the area behind the counter were stacks of boxes. To the right was a cart that shipping and receiving may have used at one point, also stacked full of boxes. Ignis seemed perplexed at this, and he gave Prompto an indiscernible look.

Prompto met his gaze and smiled sheepishly, moving his hands behind his back. 

“All right. I’ll see you in about an hour, then. Take care.”  Ignis ended the phone call, tucking his phone away. Ignis took a moment to shine his flashlight exclusively on the boxes beside him. “Prompto,” he asked calmly, “What  _ is _ all this?”

Prompto had been waiting  _ hours _ for this moment. He tried not to let his excitement trickle out too much, as he rocked on his heels and glanced away. “Oh, you know,” he mused, his smile broadening, “Just a little something.”

“Is this…”

“Yep.”

A pause. “Prompto, I appreciate the thought, I really do, but perhaps the quantity is a little on the...excessive side,” Ignis replied, lifting one of the boxes experimentally in his arms, testing the weight.

Packed in those sealed boxes were unopened containers of instant Ebony coffee. Twelve containers to a box. Twenty-four boxes.

Prompto grinned.

“Where did you---” Ignis began.

Prompto pulled his keyring out of his pocket, wiggling it playfully. “What, you think the cafeteria staff just left everything lying around, up for grabs? No way. The good stuff’s all locked up, dude.”

Ignis’ eyes lit up, then his expression went similar to when he was on the phone just a moment ago. His ‘processing’ face.  “My companions will be here to pick us up in approximately one hour,” he explained. “With your help, we could bring some of this along with us. Can you please show me the way to this storage room you speak of?”

Prompto was over the moon. He was elated. He was… assisting someone. Even if it wasn’t part of his directive anymore, apparently the concept of being helpful, being  _ useful _ , was still satisfying to him. “Yeah! Totally! It’s this way! Just follow us!” he chirped, spinning on his heels as he headed to the very back of the kitchen area.

The storage room was near a large walk-in freezer that had broken down some time ago. Prompto had already removed the locks; the large door slid wide open with no resistance. Inside, there were multiple shelves stacked full of edible items. Cans and boxes and bags of food lined the floor, along the walls; there was hardly space to move. Prompto grinned as he watched Ignis, the man regarding the sight like he had just found a portal to a mystical land far far away. 

“Prompto, this is…”

“We know, right?”

“This is…”

“Yeah?”

Ignis smiled gently as a chuckle escaped him. “I haven't seen this much food in one place, in quite some time.”

“Really?”

“I'll explain it to you later. Now, can you please quickly help me sort through anything non-perishable, that has an expiry date not within the most recent ten-year window?” 

“Got it.” 

Together, they loaded up what they could salvage onto the cart, mostly canned goods and spices. Unfortunately, most of the storage room’s contents had long since expired or rotted, but there was still a sizable amount that, according to Ignis, was likely still usable. When they finished, Ignis took a moment to explain to Prompto that even though he was very happy to be presented with so much Ebony, space was limited in the vehicle they would be traveling in, so he wouldn't be able to bring along all the boxes Prompto had brought out for him. 

Despite the space limitations, they still loaded up one box of instant Ebony onto the cart.

This made Prompto… well, he assumed it was simulated happiness. He’d done good, after all.

Next, they were presented with challenge number two: getting the cart down to the first floor. Prompto quickly produced a solution; among his collection of keys was the key to the freight elevator that shipping and receiving had used to move supplies between all levels of the aquarium with ease. At first Ignis was hesitant, citing his concern of the safety of an elevator that hadn't been used in ten years, which led to their next solution: loading the cart onto the elevator and sending it down solo, with them taking the stairs to meet it on the first floor afterward. 

So far, so good. 

Ignis retrieved the cart from the elevator and pushed it toward the main entrance doors. Theoretically, it should have been smooth sailing from here, if... it weren't for the debris he’d produced when he first entered the facility; rubble and dirt and glass and slivers of wood decorated the floor like confetti, hardly easy to wheel a cart through. Prompto offered yet another solution: he ran to the janitorial closet and returned with a large, wide broom. He began pushing the debris to the sides, making a path leading up to the doors. Ignis offered his assistance, but Prompto insisted that he ‘had this’.

“You are very efficient,” Ignis observed, leaning against the nearby wall as he watched Prompto work diligently. “I admired the cleanliness of the first floor and assumed it was all your doing. I was correct.” 

“We like cleaning. When tasks appeared on our schedule that involved cleaning duty, we were always kinda… excited?” Prompto replied, looking over at Ignis and smiling. “And to be honest, this mess has been driving us crazy this whole time. We wanted to clean it up sooner but you, uh, kept distracting us.”

Ignis chuckled. “I see.”

“It’s not really likely that we’ll be able to dispose of this much rubble before your companions get here, but it’ll do for now. We just hope they won’t mind that the aquarium doesn’t look exactly like the brochure.” Prompto’s boots scuffed against the floor as he pushed a heap of rubble to the side.

“I doubt it will be a problem, Prompto. But thank you,” Ignis said warmly.

_ Thank you. _

Those were some of Prompto’s favourite words. They filled him with determination, with a need to please. Was that a remnant of his customer service programming?

As he continued working, Prompto hummed a tune, a song he wasn’t sure even had lyrics. The instructions his administrator had once given him still rang clear in his memories, as if they were given to him only yesterday. The longer he hummed, the more those instructions began to fill in the blank lyrics.  _ Spick-and-span. No dust. No pebbles. No scratches. A guest should be able to see their reflection on it. Nothing less than sparkling perfection. Clean, clean, clean. _

“Prompto,” Ignis said in a soft tone, breaking Prompto’s concentration as well as his musical interlude, “You will be leaving this place behind soon.”

Prompto blinked, glancing over at Ignis as he stopped sweeping, leaning against the handle of the broom. “Yeah? We know,” he replied.

“You won't be coming back.” Ignis was watching him intently now, his emerald gaze intense, adding finality to his words.

“Uh huh.” Prompto wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going.

“Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want? If you decide that you’ve changed your mind, then we’ll have to perform another directive override, and soon. We haven’t much time left.”

“We’re aware.” Prompto turned away from Ignis, lifting the broom again. 

“You’re neglecting to answer my question.”

“No response available,” Prompto said simply. He leaned his broom against the wall, his eye lenses darting around at his surroundings. The place he had memorized from top to bottom, from desk to kiosk, to nook to cranny.

The first floor main entrance lobby. His former Directive Zone. The place where he had worked so hard, for so long, for so many years - just how long had it been, really? He didn’t know. His archived memories were… they were… starting to get a little glitchy. He couldn’t calculate time as quickly as he could before.

The Argentum Aquatic Centre had been his place of employment for as long as he could remember. It was also… the closest thing he could apply the concept of ‘home’ to.

_ Home _ .

This was his  _ home _ .

And he was going to leave it behind. Forever.

It wasn’t like Prompto could truly understand the concept of attachment, at least in this regard - but it made him think. He was attached to his camera, right? And his camera directly related to the aquarium. Which meant, by association, he was also attached to the aquarium as a whole. But why?

Ignis was right - with the new directive he had been given, he was no longer bound to this place. And yet, he cared. But then, was it even possible for him to have the capacity to care about that sort of thing? Did he even _possess_ the ability to care? What did it even _mean_ , to ‘care’ about something?

Oops, suddenly, an onslaught of error boxes popped up in his mind again.  _ Just gotta go ahead and…. There, all gone. For now. _

The errors were frequent. Increasingly. Today. It all started with his scheduling program crashing and becoming corrupted, and now his directive getting overridden. He wasn’t sure what would happen now. With nothing scheduled, nothing planned, things were... up in the air. Unpredictable. Prompto wasn’t so sure that he liked the unknown. His operating system was unstable. How long could he keep those pop ups at bay? Would he end up having a full system crash again, like what happened when Ignis showed up? He'd been lucky that time and recovered, but he doubted his luck would last through another crash of that intensity.

Feeling Ignis’ eyes on him still, Prompto realized he couldn’t get away with another ‘does not compute’ response. He took a moment to try and gather his thoughts, what he felt could articulate how he truly felt about this whole situation.

“We’re… gonna accompany you. Where...ever you may go,” Prompto said slowly, “That’s… the directive you gave to us, right? And… we’re not gonna go against it. Well, we literally _ can’t _ , but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re gonna stick to our directive, and to do that… we’re gonna leave this place. Because you’re right. There’s… nothing left here, for us. We want to leave. We want to move on. We want to see and experience… all sorts of new things.” He lowered his eyes as he brought his hands in front of himself.

“We want to stay with Ignis Scientia, and… thank him for all he’s done for us. In a short amount of time. Heh, it’s funny… our existence has been very… well, we wouldn’t say ‘monotonous’, but… it’s been largely unchanged for so long. We’re looking forward to what ‘life’ is going to be like outside of the aquarium walls. We’re...curious to gather all kinds of data on what living a non premeditated life is like.”

Ignis watched Prompto as he spoke, with that look on his face that Prompto had quickly learned meant that he was thinking, carefully planning out his next response. Prompto had learned that Ignis Scientia was a very calculating person. He didn’t speak unless he found it absolutely necessary.

“The outside world isn’t without its share of challenges, Prompto,” spoke Ignis. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that life outside these walls is going to be as simple and predictable as it is inside. But if you are willing to proceed regardless, and I can see that you are… I would be more than happy to have you at my side. You and I… I believe that your new directive will benefit the both of us.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto asked.

“For you, the benefit is obvious: you get to leave the aquarium; you won’t be left behind. For me, and I apologise if it sounds… selfish, but... I’m curious to see how you will adapt to new and unfamiliar environments and situations. You, as a whole, Prompto, I find to be very fascinating. I have never had the pleasure of meeting an A.I. until you, and I’m very interested to see just what you are capable of. Already you are showing me that you are much more than a simple android following a basic program, capable of making conscious choices and capable of learning and adapting.” 

Prompto stared at him. “We don’t comprehend,” he said quietly. He really didn’t, this time. A simple android following a basic program? That actually  _ was _ what he was. Wasn’t he? 

“I know all of this is a lot to process at once, Prompto. But if you’ll allow me, I can act as your… teacher, of sorts. If you accompany me on this journey with my companions, I can help satisfy your desire to acquire new information. And, as an added bonus, I hope the two of us can become friends.”

There was that word. That word he didn’t quite understand the definition of, but he had definitely used it before. “Friends...?” Prompto repeated. 

“Yes. Friends. You have one of those already, do you not? You told me before that Sania is your friend. So why not another? You  _ can _ have more than one of those, last time I checked,” Ignis chuckled.

“You want to be… our friend?” 

“That’s right.”

“....We’re gonna Moogle the definition.”

“Pardon me?”

“Just a sec.”

“Prompto---”

"A person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard,” Prompto recited quickly, while Ignis watched in either confusion or awe. “A person who gives assistance; a patron, a supporter. A person on good terms with another, a person who is not hostile. A friend.” He paused. “Ignis Scientia... is our friend?"

“Yes, if you would have me,” Ignis replied warmly. He smiled at Prompto, and the sight was enough to stun the blond temporarily.

Ignis was so… photogenic. He was, dare he say… perfect. The man was like one of those stock models that Prompto had observed in the tourist brochures; all he was missing was a smiling stock family accompanying him and a random animal that had been lazily cut and pasted into the photo digitally. It took everything in him not to photograph Ignis right now.

Now that Prompto knew the official definition of ‘friend’, he could say without a doubt that it applied to Sania. But Ignis? Did he fit the definition, too? Would he come to fit the definition, the more time he spent at his side, the more he got to know him?

Prompto was sure that he wanted to go with him, regardless of his new programmed directive. Somewhere along the way, he’d decided that he liked the sound of Ignis’ voice; it was calming, professional, yet laced with a kindness that was easy to miss if you so much as blinked. He felt he could trust that voice. He felt he could trust this human, this man, this… stranger that came so suddenly into his life. He didn’t feel scared about facing the unknown, as long as it was with him.

‘ _ Feel _ ’.

‘ _ Scared _ ’. 

“Prompto, you’re staring again.”

The sound of Ignis’ voice reeled Prompto back up to reality’s surface, like he were a fish that had swam endlessly into the deep depths of the ocean that was his processor. His thoughts, his insatiable curiosity that showed no visible signs of an ocean floor, of an end.

Ignis could be a friend. Ignis could help sate that curiosity.

“Oh, uh,” Prompto said at last. “Sorry. We’re just… thinking.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot, ever since you were given your new directive,” Ignis replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He regarded the screen. “It looks like my companions will be here soon,” he added softly.

Prompto lowered his eyes.

Was he really ready to leave this place behind forever? Was Prompto, Prompto  _ Argentum, _ really going to abandon the  _ Argentum  _ Aquatic Centre?

...His brothers.

His brothers would know if this was the right choice to make.

They’d always had the right answers. They’d always guided him in the past, when his directive program couldn’t. They’d know what to do.

Before he could stop himself, he hammered away multiple requests in a row to gain access to the Argentum Cloud server, a final, last ditch effort made in desperation as the reality of his current situation hit him all at once. The desire to hear those twelve other voices that had kept him company every single day of his ‘life’, ever since he had first been activated, was strong, and came so suddenly. He needed their guidance. He needed their comfort. He… he needed  _ them _ . He was... What was this feeling? Fear? Simulated fear? He didn’t know - he wasn’t familiar. It was new.

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

**CONNECTION REFUSED.**

**SERVER ACCESS DENIED.**

Of course. It was still the same - why would he think it would be any different now?

Prompto’s hands shot up to his head, clutching it tightly. He turned and took a few steps backward. 

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, approaching the blond, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

“We’re... “  Prompto tried to speak, but all that came out was a warbled digital noise. “We...we miss our brothers.”

“Your brothers,” Ignis repeated. He watched Prompto, assessing if he was going to move erratically again, before he placed his hand gently on his shoulder. Prompto seemed to relax at the touch, his hands lowering from his head as he stared up at Ignis, eyes filled with innocence and uncertainty. Confusion and even fear showed on his face, and he couldn’t speak.

“Prompto… I can’t make any promises, as I’m just in the dark as you are,” Ignis said slowly, his tone low and gentle. “But what if there was a way to find out what happened to your brothers? What if the answers you seek lie outside of these walls, beyond your broken server connections?” 

“We---” Prompto tried again.  “We don’t know. Is it even possible?  _ Can _ we find them…?”

“I cannot say for sure. It’s unclear, but just because it’s unclear doesn’t mean it’s impossible.” Ignis placed his other hand on Prompto’s opposite shoulder, standing in front of him as he made eye contact with him. “As long as it does not deviate from the path my companions and I are taking… I promise that I will do everything I can to help you make contact with your brothers again. Who knows… Perhaps we may even come across them in physical form.”

Prompto’s eyes widened.  “Physical… form?” he repeated.

“Yes. They’re aquarium greeters as well, are they not? Which means they would also have physical forms, just as you do. It’s not farfetched to consider the possibility that they are still out there somewhere, just as you are now, right here with me.”

“....y-yeah.”  Prompto knew this already, but for some reason, putting it into perspective really was… it was something. He could see his brothers in person? He could touch them? Talk to them, with audible speech?

Prompto placed his hands on Ignis’ outstretched arms in front of him, smiling crookedly as he leaned on him slightly. “This… is heavy,” he said softly.

Ignis chuckled.  “There’s that word again. ‘Heavy’. Yes, Prompto. This is indeed heavy. But it’s also exciting, is it not?”

“Yeah.” Prompto nodded. To talk to his brothers, to  _ see _ his brothers... It was like he had added a new sub-directive to his programming. A goal. Something to work towards. “We want to see them.”

“And I have a feeling you will, Prompto,” Ignis replied.

Just then, there came the sound of a chime. Ignis’ cell phone. The man moved his hands away from Prompto and took a step back, producing his phone from his pocket. “My companions have arrived,” he announced.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Prompto wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

He couldn’t consult his brothers, but there was still one last thing he had to do before he left.

“You can...go on without us,” Prompto said as he glanced in the direction of his photo kiosk.  “We won’t be long, we swear. Is that okay?”

Ignis looked at him, silently taking his request into consideration, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes,” he replied, turning so he could head to the cart loaded full of supplies. He pushed it toward the open main entrance doors and stepped outside, leaving Prompto alone in the lobby.

Alone.

He knew that feeling well.

For ten years, his reality had been just that: alone. Ignis had quickly made him forget what it had been like to not engage in conversation with another person for an extended period of time. How had he been able to stand it? Was it really solely because he was following his programming? What would life be like for him if he had to go on being the way he was now, with his scheduling program disabled, if Ignis had never shown up?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Prompto approached his former work station, the photography kiosk. Somehow, it felt foreign to him now; unfamiliar, even though it was a part of the only world he’d ever known. He slid his hand along the smooth wooden surface, his fingers dipping into the sharp indents on the corner, the carved vandalizations left behind by a misbehaved guest. He slid open the drawer next, the compartment that on a good day would give him little to no problems on its way out, but on a bad, required a fair bit of wiggling before it would budge.

Prompto removed the small fish bowl-themed bag he had attached to his hip, cradling it in his hands. Inside the zippered pouch was a small plastic case that securely held his camera’s memory cards. Years and years worth of guest photos filled each card to max capacity, sorted chronologically by year and season. 

He remembered each and every one of those photos. He remembered the dates, the times, the conversations he’d had with every single one of those guests. He remembered the repeat guests, the ‘Aqua Maniacs’ as the aquarium’s fanclub was so dubbed; he remembered every child whose face would light up at the sight of him, rushing over so they could get their photo taken.

Some of his photos over the years even told a story, beginning as guests on an innocent date between near strangers; then months or years later they would return with wedding rings on their fingers. For some, on their next visit, they would be accompanied by a baby stroller, then later, another newborn and a toddler. Children he’d watched grow from babies to kids, eyes wide with wonder and excitement from the mere prospect of the aquarium; kids that Prompto would amaze with his knowledge and entertain with his croaking frog keychain. Kids that he would make laugh and smile when he told them a silly marine-themed joke. Kids that Prompto would make damn sure would leave the aquarium after having a fun, happy experience that they would remember for the rest of their lives. Memories. Memories even attached to sentimental objects, such as a keychain, or a plush toy.

Or... memories in the form of a souvenir photograph, taken with their friends and families, by the one and only Familiar Face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, Worldwide.

He’d made his guests feel welcome. He’d made them feel like they were  _ home _ . They were  _ his _ guests. It had been  _ his _ job to take care of them. They’d given him a purpose. They… they’d given him…

....happiness.

He held the pouch over the open drawer, intending to place it inside, but he hesitated. He couldn’t unclasp his fingers. His hand hovered, the bag trembling in his grasp.

The photos were his, but the memory cards were not. The memory cards were, technically, property of the aquarium. Not even the clothing he wore, his uniform, was actually ‘his’. His camera was his only legitimate possession. The memory cards? Not so much. They were company property.

He wasn’t allowed to take them outside the aquarium walls.

And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to leave them behind.

Why?

These photos… they were digital memories. They were a catalogue, proof that everything he had experienced had actually happened. That his entire existence wasn’t a lie, that it had had a point. That everything he had done and experienced wasn’t for nothing. That he’d made a difference in people’s lives.

These photos... were precious.

They were  _ his _ . 

He didn’t want to leave his guests behind.

He slid the drawer shut, then clipped his bag back onto his hip.

_ Sorry, Loss and Prevention.  _

He turned around, lifting his camera and turning it on so he could take one last photo of himself in front of his work station, in front of the beautiful undersea mural on the wall. His smile was a signature Prompto Argentum smile; friendly, cheerful, inviting, but it also showed something else. When he finished, he began to walk away, leaving it behind forever.

_ Goodbye, first floor main entrance lobby. Goodbye, Carl. _

≈

No sooner had Prompto taken his first steps outside of the aquarium walls was he greeted by the sound of a deep, booming, unfamiliar voice not far in front of him.

“Who the hell’re you?”

It wasn’t exactly threatening. More lazy, than anything else. And yet, it rumbled his world like a thunderstorm.

Prompto stood up straight, eyes wide like an Anak in the headlights. A large man lumbered toward him from the side of a nearby vehicle, finely sculpted muscles held back by the fabric of a red ski jacket. He was tall.  _ Huge _ . Prompto had never seen someone of his build before; well, not quite. When he thought about it, he wondered if maybe the man had visited the aquarium at some point, back when a team of Blitzball players had stopped by after winning a championship game. Prompto remembered taking that souvenir photo like it was yesterday - how could he not, when it was the toughest selfie he’d ever taken, trying to get twelve massive men perfectly framed and centered within the photo margins?

Prompto’s lips parted, but before he could reply, Ignis had done so for him.

“No need to be hostile. This is Prompto,” Ignis explained matter-of-factly. He closed the trunk to the vehicle, clapping his gloved hands together in accomplishment before he turned to regard the stranger. This man… he must be… how did Ignis refer to the people they had been waiting for? ‘Companions’?

“And just who the hell is Prompto?” the stranger shot back. “And what's with the outfit? Wasn't aware we dropped you off at the Clown Academy.”

‘Clown’...? Prompto looked down at himself. He added that word to his queue of terms to Moogle later.

The stranger crossed his large arms across his broad chest, sizing up Prompto from head to toe. The man was opposite of Ignis in appearance in every way except height. Thick eyebrows, his face lined with a neatly groomed beard. Dark brown hair that hung just a little past his shoulders, the upper portion pulled back into a ponytail. An amber coloured feather hung from an earring on his left side, soft and shimmery as it nearly disappeared into the loose hair by his neck. Soft brown eyes that screamed kindness, out of place in comparison to his otherwise intimidating stature. 

“He’s a friend of mine,” said Ignis. His tone was firm, yet calm. Prompto could tell that Ignis was used to having conversations of this nature with this person. Was this man really a friend of Ignis’? They didn't seem like they regarded each other with affection. 

“Awfully convenient for a friend we’ve never heard of to be in the place you happened to be pillaging, don’t you think?” the stranger quipped.

“He’s….” Ignis paused. “I met him for the first time inside the aquarium. He’s a former employee who had sought refuge at the facility for quite some time, now. He was unable to send out a distress signal, so he was left to his own devices until someone happened to pass by and offer help. And that someone, as it turns out, ended up being myself.”

Prompto blinked. Well, it wasn't like it was _ entirely _ inaccurate. But he couldn't help but notice that the abridged version omitted some important information. 

“Sounds like he’s pretty hardy.” The large man looked at Prompto again. 

“As if he had any other choice.”

“Great. Well, that’s nice and all, but we don’t exactly have room in the car for a stowaway, let alone enough food for another mouth.”

“We can make it work.”

“Oh, really? Y’know, if we’d been given a heads up about this, we would have been able to plan a bit better to accommodate another person before we got here. Why the hell didn't you tell us?”

Ignis pursed his lips. “It slipped my mind. I was… busy,” he offered. 

“Busy. Right. Sorry, but with the way things are now, I say no.”

“You don’t get to decide.”

“Oh, and you do? Listen. Space and resource limitations. It’s an issue.”

“Another body in the car is hardly an issue. Last I checked, there were four seats in the car, possibly five, if the fifth person is on the smaller side.”

“And the food?”

“I’ll share my portions.” Ignis glanced at Prompto.

“C’mon, Iggy, you  _ know _ that’s not gonna fly. You’ll both starve.”

Prompto opened his mouth to offer a solution to that problem. After all, he didn’t need to---

“So you would suggest we leave behind someone who needs our help, instead?” Ignis accused.

“Well, he seemed to be doing pretty good for himself before you came along,” Large Man retorted.

Prompto didn't like the sudden tension that had filled the air. He… didn't like inconveniencing anyone. He didn't want to be a burden to anyone. Had he made a mistake by going along with Ignis’ offer?

“H-hey, uh…” Prompto began, but his attempt at speaking for himself was cut short again.

“Food and shelter won't last forever if you stay in one spot for an extended period of time,” Ignis replied, his tone showing signs of irritation, now. “You know this. He has a better chance out here, and perhaps he will find a path to follow at the next settlement we stop by.” 

Large Man sighed heavily, glancing back over his shoulder at the vehicle. “Hey, Noct? You gonna join this discussion, or what? It’s your party. You’re the boss.”

A groan escaped through one of the vehicle’s open windows. “Oh, come on. I don’t want to get involved in this,” a new voice complained. 

Oh? Another of Ignis’ companions? Prompto perked up.

“ _ You’re  _ the _ boss _ ,” Large Man insisted.

There was a sigh, the clunk of a car door opening, and then a man dressed in a heavy green parka lined with white fur along the edge of the hood, the overall size being way, way too large for its host, stepped out from the left-hand back door of the vehicle. He looked… tired. That was the only word Prompto could use to describe him. Tired. It showed on his face, in his posture, as if a UFO had flown overhead and zapped all his energy clear out of his body all at once. His hair as dark as the sky above framed his face in long, wispy strands, obscuring striking blue eyes beneath the fringe. He rubbed at his chin, his face sporting a scratchy-looking beard as he took a disinterested look at Prompto. 

“Noctis, it’s all right, there’s no need for you to be on your feet right now,” Ignis said as he briskly turned and headed for Tired Man - Noctis? -’s side. 

Noctis waved his hand dismissively at Ignis before he pressed his hand to the side of the car, leaning his weight against it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he insisted.

“You’ve overexerted yourself, again.” Ignis’ voice showed concern. He seemed affectionate. Noctis was definitely a friend of his, going by the definition. 

“Ignis, it’s fine. Really. No sweat.” 

“Noct---”

“Anyway,” Noctis interrupted, looking back in Prompto’s direction. 

Prompto stood up straight again, forcing an awkward smile. “Hello,” he said innocently, raising his hand in a stagnant wave. He really didn’t know what else to say. He was so used to greeting people as an aquarium greeter, that… placed in a completely different situation, he was at a loss. He doubted that this was the appropriate time to offer a selfie with the world famous Prompto Argentum.

Noctis appeared to be deep in thought for a short moment before he shrugged his shoulders indifferently.  “Doesn’t matter to me,” he announced. “Don’t see a reason why he can’t come along.” And with that, he slid back into the car from whence he came. 

Ignis smiled, gaze meeting Large Man’s. “And there you have it.”

Large Man made a ‘chh’ sound with his mouth. “Guess so,” he uttered, striding past Ignis so he could get into the front passenger side of the car. 

“Ah. I see that I’ve been designated as the driver, as per usual,” Ignis mused. “No matter. It’s quite obvious that you could really use the rest. Both of you.”

Neither Noctis or Large Man replied. 

Prompto stared at Ignis. 

What just happened?

Ignis’ smile grew warmer as he walked over to Prompto’s side, stopping when he arrived in front of him. “Are you all right, Prompto?” he asked.

“Yeah. We’re cool. It's all good,” the blond replied, flashing a grin and a thumbs up.

“I sincerely apologize. My companions are…in need of a good night’s rest. They’re not usually like this. They'll be chipper in no time.”

Prompto still felt awkward. “...okay,” he said in a small voice. 

“Shall we be on our way? How are you doing, temperature-wise? Are you cold? We’ve got spare clothing, if you wish to bundle up.” Ignis studied the blond’s appearance, reaching to touch one of Prompto’s sleeves, testing the thickness of the fabric between his fingers.

“Oh. Uh. We’re…good,” Prompto replied, shifting on his feet unsteadily.

“Are you sure? As you can see from our manner of dress, heat outside is scarce, though the car will provide adequate warmth while we travel.”

For some reason, Prompto felt a little backed into the corner with the questions, even if Ignis was just trying to be helpful. He knew what he was going to tell Ignis might freak him out a little. Or maybe a lot. It always did when he had to explain it to a human.

“We… don't feel any kind of temperature,” he said softly. “We don't feel cold. Or warmth. Or anything at all, really. We don’t feel anything. We can tell if someone’s touching us, but there’s no... sensation, we guess? It’s...hard to explain.” He forced a smile. “We don’t know what pain is like, either, so that’s kinda an upside to it all, maybe?”

Ignis didn’t reply. Just as predicted, he must be taken aback by the confession. Prompto stared at him meekly, watching as bursts of warm breath from Ignis’ nose hit the apparent cold air, puffing between them like miniature clouds.

Bursts of breath. 

Something Prompto didn’t have, either.

It was like Ignis had noticed this detail just now, in this same moment. Prompto could tell from Ignis’ eyes that he was ‘processing’, again. What exactly was he thinking? Prompto wasn’t so sure he wanted to know.

“Ah. I see,” Ignis said at last. “Well, come along, then. We really should be on our way.”

Ignis stepped forward, then paused. “Prompto?”

“Yeah?”

“I failed to ask you this before, but… are you in need of an external power source?”

Prompto bit his lip.

“...no,” he replied. “We’re… we’re self-sustaining. It was… part of our big draw when they intro’d us to the aquariums a long time ago. The perfect employee, y’know? Never tire, always on, always rearing and ready to go.”

Ignis studied him for a short moment before he nodded curtly and began to walk once more.

Was that… strange?

Was… he strange, to a human?

Did he make Ignis uncomfortable?

Prompto didn’t know. 

Prompto followed as Ignis approached the vehicle opposite to where Noctis had gotten in, opening the door so Prompto could get inside.

Prompto looked over at the inactive fountain in front of the aquarium entrance, the one he had been so excited to experience firsthand, and walked right by it towards the car, disinterested.

No matter how ‘human’ he looked and sounded, Prompto was still an A.I. He wasn’t ‘real’. He’d known this the entire time he’d been activated, but he’d never had the chance to really…  _ think _ about it.

He had all the time in the world to think about it, now. 


	5. BEYOND

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off! This is one of my favourite chapters that I've written so far!!
> 
> (Also - [Del surprised me with this gorgeous piece of our A.I. boy](http://delborovic.tumblr.com/post/174124757181/the-little-robot-prompto-that-could-fanart-for) and everyone should see it because it's amazing. <3)

** DATA LOG #5: BEYOND **

 

“So… Prompto, right?”

Tired Man’s, or rather, Noctis’, voice was the first to break the silence after about two and a half hours of driving.

Noctis and Large Man had fallen asleep almost immediately upon leaving the aquarium - Ignis had been right, they’d really needed some rest - leaving Prompto at a loss for what to do or say. He knew the driver of a vehicle shouldn’t be distracted, so he kept his mouth shut instead of talking to Ignis and sat there in the backseat, silently Moogling various terms and phrases to pass the time. He hadn’t even realized Noctis had woken up somewhere along the way until he heard his name spoken.

Prompto looked over at the adjacent passenger. Noctis met his gaze, his cell phone in his hands. Despite having just slept, Noctis still looked tired, but his eyes were kind and so was his expression.

“Y-yeah. Prompto Argentum,” Prompto replied as he smiled in greeting. This casual situation was… odd. It wasn't anything like when he would greet a guest on the job.

“I'm Noctis. It's nice to meet you. Sorry I didn't actually introduce myself earlier. I was... really out of it. Didn't mean to come across as rude.” Noctis smiled in return, holding his hand out politely.

Thankfully, Prompto already had the knowledge of what's customary when people meet for the first time, so he was a pro at this whole handshaking thing. “It's cool, we get it,” he replied, taking Noctis’ gloved hand and giving it a shake.

Oh, right.

He realized that earlier, when Ignis explained to Large Man what went down, he neglected to mention the fact that Prompto was an A.I.

“ _The way you speak isn't normal, to a human,”_ Ignis’ voice rang in his head.

Should he avoid using self pronouns?

Were they supposed to be keeping the whole, y’know, not human thing a secret? He had no idea.

“You look… tired,” Prompto said bluntly, in an attempt to deflect the conversation subject away from himself.

Noctis laughed, a soft and almost bitter sounding melody. “Yeah. You can say that again,” he mused. “Kinda comes with the job, unfortunately. But it's fine. I'll be as good as new after I get some more sleep.”

“What's your job?” Prompto created a new folder in his head, preparing to fill it with everything he could learn about this new person. He seemed nice. Ignis was right to have Noctis as a friend.

Another laugh. “It's… complicated,” Noctis replied, turning his head so he could look out the window at the darkness beyond the car’s walls. It never seemed to end. “You know… I think I've met you before.”

“Huh?” Prompto’s eyes widened.

Wait. What happened? Did Noctis just deflect the conversation topic too? What was this? Was conversing normally with a human like some kind of weird verbal ping pong game?

“Well. Obviously it wasn't _you_ you, but someone playing the same character,” Noctis continued. “I’m pretty sure I remember the name Prompto, and... I dunno, I think I might have been to the Argentum Aquatic Centre before? A really long time ago. I could just be imagining things, though.”

…

‘Character’.

That’s right.

To the public, ‘Prompto Argentum’ was just a persona, a character. It was why he was the ‘Familiar Friendly Face, Worldwide’. He could be at several places at once, because ‘Prompto Argentum’ was everywhere. His brothers were all Prompto Argentum, too. It was why they were ‘we’.

Still, now that he thought about it, it didn't feel quite as… normal, anymore.

“When was it? How long ago? What was the season?”  Prompto asked suddenly, one after the other. Internally, he was trying to search his memories to see if the name ‘Noctis’ had ever come up.

“Oh, uh.. probably summer? I never really went out much as a kid, but sometimes my dad took me out for my birthday. So… probably August 30th, maybe… like… twenty-five years ago?” Noctis replied, scrunching his nose slightly in thought. “Ehhh I don’t know. Again, could just be misremembering. Why?”

“Just a sec,” Prompto said as he tapped his finger against his chin.

Noctis just stared at him.

Prompto said nothing as his hands moved to the fishbowl pouch on his hip, unzipping it so he could pull out the case of memory cards. He opened it up and sifted through its contents, searching through any labeled ‘Archives’ for one that could possibly contain photos from approximately twenty-five years ago. A lot of the photos from that long ago had been lost or damaged, but the photo lab staff had worked very hard trying to preserve them all digitally. Maybe, just maybe… he could find a trace of his new friend.

Twenty-five years ago… that was the grand opening… wasn't it?

He swapped out the memory card in his camera for one that he hoped would be closest to what he was seeking. Confused but intrigued, Noctis peered over at Prompto’s camera screen, though Prompto was flipping through the photos so quickly the preserved memories were nothing but a blur to the human eye.

Eventually, Prompto’s finger stopped pressing the forward button and settled on one photo in particular. He studied the screen for a moment, deeming it satisfactory. “Look familiar to you?”  he asked, grinning wide as he shoved the camera into Noctis' hands.

On the screen was a washed out photo, one that had been scanned a little crookedly and had a crease on one of the corners. Prompto, wearing a different outfit than the one he wore now, stood beside a man and a small child in front of a mural of cartoon sea creatures with his ‘award winning’ smile on his face. The man, sporting dark hair and a dark beard, wore a finely tailored blue suit. He knelt beside the child, his hand placed on the boy’s shoulder in an affectionate manner. The boy couldn’t have been a day older than five, pudgy cheeks and messy hair, his shirt half untucked from his pants and his shoelaces untied. His posture said ‘I’m uncomfortable’, likely from having to stand next to the ‘mascot’, but his eyes were on the older man beside him instead, a hint of a shy smile on his lips.

Not a word was spoken by Noctis, his blue eyes fixated on the screen, wavering as his bottom lip trembled ever so faintly. Prompto watched him, trying to decipher what exactly was happening. Was this a good reaction? Or a bad reaction?

“Can… you send this to me? Somehow?”  Noctis asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, uh… sure?” Prompto drew a blank for a second before he scrambled to unzip the other pocket on his pouch. Inside this compartment were various cables, all with different ends, and he produced the one he needed for his camera. Sliding up the band on his wrist, he revealed the ports embedded into his skin and plugged the end of the cable into one.

Noctis was so focused on the photo that he didn’t notice what Prompto was doing at first. Prompto let him hold the camera while he plugged the other end of the cable into its side, and only then did Noctis look up. He jerked, his eyes widening.

“Wh-wha….”  Noctis stuttered as he stared at Prompto. A mixture of confusion, awe and a bit of horror for good measure showed in his expression.

“Just a sec,” Prompto chirped cheerfully. He blinked once, twice, and then...  “There. Done. It’s uploaded. Can we see your phone now?”

Noctis slowly handed him his phone, wide-eyed as Prompto unplugged the camera from himself. He then swapped the cable for another one, plugging one end into his wrist and the other into Noctis’ phone.

“Done.”  Pop, pop went the cables, and they were back in the pouch.  “It should be in your photo gallery now.” Prompto smiled, sliding the band back down over his wrist. “Trade ya.” He offered the phone back to Noctis, and he swapped for the camera.

Noctis accessed his phone’s photo reel right away and sure enough, there it was, the photo he’d just been looking at on Prompto’s camera. “Thanks,” he replied. Something about him seemed different, now. Prompto wasn’t sure what.

“No problem!” Prompto chirped. “Glad to help. Cool, huh? We had a feeling that we had it, somewhere. If you give us a sec, we can bring up our file from that particular date. Like, our schedule, our report.” Prompto watched the other, curious. Noctis still looked out of it. His eyebrows had bunched slightly. His fingers rubbed at his bristly face. Was he ‘processing’?

“Oh, it’s… okay. Don’t worry about it.” Noctis glanced up at Large Man, still sound asleep in the front passenger seat. Then, pulling out his phone, he brought up the notepad app and tapped out a message.

‘ _It might be for the best if we keep your history on the down low for now_ ,’ the words on the screen read. Noctis tilted his phone so Prompto could see.

Prompto stared at the screen innocently, taking the phone from Noctis so he could type out a reply.

‘ _What do you mean?_ ’ He tapped in record speed. He passed it back to Noctis, and the two continued exchanging the phone back and forth as they had a silent conversation in text form.

‘ _You’re an A.I., right? That wasn’t an actor at the aquarium when I was a kid. It was actually you, wasn’t it?_ ’

Prompto knew there was no point in trying to keep it a secret.

‘ _Yeah. It was. Are you weirded out?_ ’

Prompto met Noctis’ gaze.

Noctis smiled.

‘ _No. Not really. It was a little surprising at first, but it’s not weird. Not to me, anyway. I’ve met other types of A.I. before._ ’

‘ _Might be a bit of a problem. Ignis Scientia already knows._ ’ Prompto looked at the back of Ignis’ head, at the perfectly-styled ash-blond strands. The spectacled man remained quiet, concentrating on the road.

‘ _I kinda figured. Ignis isn’t the problem here, though. It’s Gladio._ ’

‘ _Gladio?_ ’

Noctis pointed to the back of Large Man’s head.

‘ _Oh, you mean Large Man_ ,’ Prompto added casually.

Noctis stared at the phone screen for a few seconds before he started to laugh.

“‘Large Man’? Oh, that’s rich,” he hooted aloud.

“Having fun back there?” Ignis chimed in. His green eyes met with the pair’s in the rearview mirror.

“What can I say? It’s a party,” Noctis replied, smiling crookedly. Prompto couldn’t see it, but judging from Ignis’ eyebrows in the rearview mirror, the way his forehead crinkled just that little bit, he could tell Ignis was smiling, too, however briefly.

Noctis typed out another response.

‘ _Gladio’s a bit weird when it comes to technology. He might not understand right away, so… for now, might be a good idea to keep stuff like… plugging things into your wrist sparse_.’

‘ _Oh. Okay._ ’

Prompto regarded his wrist. He’d forgotten that to a human, that must have looked… really freaking weird. Noctis was right. He hadn’t even given that a second thought and just… did it. He had to be more careful from now on.

‘ _Is Gladio a friend?_ ’ Prompto asked.

‘ _Yeah. Gladio’s a friend. He’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but he’s cool. Don’t let Large Man’s largeness get to you. If he gives you any trouble, I’m sure Ignis will help keep him in his lane_.’

 _Keep him in his lane_. What? Prompto added that phrase to the Moogle queue.

Ignis.

Ignis Scientia.

Prompto’s gaze fell on that ash-blond hair in the driver’s seat again.

Prompto was accompanying him, wherever he may go, that was for sure. He was following his directive. It felt…good. But he felt empty, somehow. That folder of information on Ignis was almost completely empty. And he didn’t like it.

‘ _Is Ignis Scientia a good person?_ ’  Prompto typed to Noctis.

‘ _The best_ ,’ was the instant reply.

Prompto sank a bit in his seat, a small smile on his lips.  ‘ _That’s what we thought. He did a lot for us before we left the aquarium_.’

‘ _Not surprising. He’s kinda like Gladio, where people are quick to judge him based on his appearance and how he speaks, but he’s actually the nicest person I’ve ever met. He cares a lot for people_.’

‘ _So he’s your friend?_ ’

‘ _More than that. He’s like my brother. The three of us - me, Gladio, Ignis - we’re like family. We’ve been best friends since we were kids_.’

Prompto thought about that for a moment. _Best_ friends? Oh, right. He knew what that meant. He had a best friend, too. Sania. He threw the term ‘family’ to the Moogle queue, though, even though he already had a basic understanding of it.

‘ _Tell us more about Ignis Scientia_.’

Noctis shifted a bit in his seat. ‘ _He’s not as cool as he looks_.’

‘ _No way, dude. He’s gotta be cool_.’

Noctis laughed again.

‘ _Seriously, he’s not. He may be a good guy, but it doesn’t mean he’s cool_.’

‘ _Tell us more about Ignis Scientia_ ,’ Prompto tried again, insistent. He was desperate to fill up his Ignis folder with information. With anything. Anything at all. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Ignis Scientia.

‘ _He’s obsessed with Ebony coffee_.’

‘ _We know that already_.’

‘ _There’s really not much else to him, honestly_.’

‘ _We don’t believe that_.’

‘ _He’s a pretty private person, actually. But even still, why don’t you try asking him yourself sometime?_ ’

Prompto scrunched his nose.  ‘ _Do you have a file on him in your phone that we can upload to our server?_ ’

Noctis laughed again. ‘ _Dude, no. That would be creepy_.’

Prompto fidgeted in his seat. He was getting a bit... frustrated? Was that the word? He’d felt like this before, earlier when he had been in the aquarium with Ignis. ‘ _Okay. We’ll ask him soon_.’ And with that, he handed Noctis back the phone. He lifted his camera and focused his attention on that for the time being, ending his silent conversation with Noctis.

Noctis shrugged, yawned, then sank in his seat as well, tapping absently at his phone screen.

 _Ignis Scientia_.

Just who was he?

≈

“Daemons.”

The word was simple and unfamiliar to Prompto, but upon Ignis’ uttering of it, the other two men in the car snapped right to attention, sitting up straight.

Large Man - Gladio - peered through the windshield, squinting as he tried to make out his surroundings, lit up by the headlights of the vehicle. “You’re due for a new glasses prescription,” he muttered. “Where?”

“You’ll see,” Ignis replied. And sure enough, there they were. As Ignis slowed the vehicle, the sight of two large, armored creatures seemed to materialize out of thin air, rising through the pavement of the road directly in front of them. A swirl of purple and blue-ish smoke surrounded the creatures and the cement at their feet, as if they had risen from some sort of unworldly portal.

Prompto had never seen anything like this before. He was frozen, staring as he peered around Gladio’s head at the bizarre sight through the front windshield.

“More Iron Giants? Why the hell do they always have to spawn in the middle of the road?” Gladio grumbled, annoyed.

Wait, was this some kind of regular occurrence for them?!

“Perhaps they’re auditioning for a part in the Frogger remake,” Ignis remarked. He slowed the car until it came to a stop, turning off the engine. “Noct, you can sit this one out. Gladio and I will handle this one on our own.”

Noctis groaned. “Like hell I’m gonna let you guys go out there by yourselves.” He had been half asleep at that point, but already he was reaching for the door handle to exit the vehicle.

Ignis sighed heavily. “Prompto, please stay here. We shall be back in a few minutes.”

Back?

A few minutes?

Wait.

What exactly were they going to do?!

“Uh… okay?” Prompto peeped. He bit his lip, having no other choice but to heed Ignis’ instructions. He watched as the three men all got out of the car together, grouping in front as they slowly approached the ‘daemons’, as Ignis had called them, walking side by side. He watched as the men raised their hands, and in a swirl of wispy blue, weapons materialized out of nowhere into their grips, much like the daemons had in the road, and…

Prompto’s operating system stuttered to a halt. He’d accidentally crashed it; spamming Moogle with too many phrases and words to search all at once. He was so confused. He didn’t understand what was happening in front of him. While he sorted through the aftermath, he listened to the clang of steel on steel, watched as flickers and flashes of what looked to be fire and ice and electricity lit up the darkness like fireworks.

Just who _were_ these people? Forget just being curious about Ignis, just… _what was going on?!_

Prompto had so many questions and not enough resources to manage them all.

He hardly had enough time to continue being stunned, as it felt like the battle was over in no time; mere minutes, just as Ignis had predicted. The trio returned to the car, though only two of them were mobile this time. In Gladio’s arms laid Noctis, the man’s limbs hanging like sagging tree branches.

Prompto’s eyes widened.  “Is Noctis okay?!” he yelped, scrambling to sit upright as Gladio opened the door on the opposite side.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s good. Just learned his lesson, as always,” Gladio replied, gently placing Noctis in the seat. “Iggy told him to sit it out, and he didn’t listen. Stubborn.” Noctis slumped, and for a second Prompto swore he was dead, but then he picked up the faintest sound of air expulsion. He was still breathing. Well, that was always a good sign.

“I suppose now is as good a time as ever to make camp,” Ignis suggested as he entered the vehicle on the driver’s side, Gladio doing the same on the opposite.

“Camp?” Prompto squeaked. He looked over at Noctis again. Fast asleep. Now it was confirmed, as lips had parted and a snore rumbled in the air, born from the dark haired man’s chest.

“We’ve been traveling for quite some time, and with Noctis in the state he is now, I think we would all benefit from a warm meal and a good night’s sleep, wouldn’t you agree?” Ignis looked at Prompto via the rearview mirror.

≈

Camp resided on a small ridge of rock, slightly risen from the rest of the land surrounding it. Prompto, after offering his help and having it be rejected in favour of staying with Noctis, watched as Ignis and Gladio puttered about, back and forth from the trunk of the car. A tent was born. Then a set of camping chairs. A table. Cooking supplies. A campfire.

It was fascinating.

Thanks to Moogle, Prompto now knew everything there was to know about ‘camp’.

Gladio walked back over to the car after he had finished setting up. “Still out, huh,” he said, chuckling as he bent down slightly to regard the sleeping Noctis, still in the back seat. “He’ll probably be out all night and then some.”  He gently picked the man up in his arms. Prompto watched as Gladio carried Noctis over to the tent and disappeared inside with him.

Prompto still had no answers about what had happened earlier.

Flashes of light... Glimmers of colour…

“Prompto?”

Prompto snapped back to reality when Ignis peered inside the open car door, a warm smile on his face.

“You’re welcome to join us outside of the vehicle. Why don’t you give me a hand with dinner?” Ignis said, his tone matching the calm of his expression.

“Oh.. okay. Sure,” Prompto replied. Right. Of course. Of course he could leave the car. But at the same time… he felt like he shouldn’t intrude unless he was invited. But now, he’d been invited, so all systems were go, right?

Prompto followed Ignis over to the small makeshift kitchen the man had set up. On the table were cans of food that they had pillaged from the aquarium, along with dishes and utensils. He couldn’t help but think that it was like a mini version of the aquarium’s cafeteria. Sort of.

“Do...you do a lot of cooking, Ignis?” Prompto asked curiously as he picked up one of the items that laid on the table. Prompto wasn’t knowledgeable in the culinary arts, but he at the very least could figure out how to use a can opener.

“Unfortunately, yes. Not by choice, mind you, but more because Gladio and Noct couldn’t cook a decent meal if their lives depended on it,” Ignis replied, his tone fond despite his words. “And while our food supply isn’t exactly the most… gourmet, I can at the very least ensure that even canned vegetables and meat can make a satisfactory meal, if prepared correctly.”

Prompto smiled, setting the now-open can of beans on the table. “Guess that’s a good skill to have when you’re traveling, huh? Did you cook a lot before, uh… you… left on… whatever this is?”

“Yes. I lived alone, but I was never very fond of getting take-out food. I much prefer eating home cooked meals. I feel more comfortable knowing precisely what goes into my food. Healthier, too, of course.”

So… Ignis Scientia could cook.

What else could he do?

Prompto watched as Ignis picked up the can of beans and carried it over to the pot roasting above the campfire. This… was his chance.  He could ask Ignis about himself. Noctis wasn’t any help earlier when they were driving, and he doubted he would get any information out of Gladio. So in the end, it looked like he had no choice but to go to Ignis directly after all.

But how?

Even Prompto knew that it would be strange to go up to someone and say “Hey, why don’t you give me an information dump on everything and anything about you?”

“Hey, Ignis?”  Prompto began.

“Yes, Prompto?” Ignis replied, walking back over to the table. “Dinner’s nearly ready. Will you be joining us?”

Oh. Maybe not right now.

Prompto glanced around. Gladio wasn’t here. Where did he go? Well, it didn’t really matter.

“Ignis… We’re sure you’ve figured this out by now, but... We don’t have to eat. Or drink. Is... that gonna be weird for your companions?” Prompto asked in a soft voice, almost nervously.

“Ah, that’s right. Are you concerned?” Ignis replied. He sure didn’t sound so.

“Back in the car... Noctis told us that we should keep the whole, y’know, A.I. thing on the down low.”

“It may be for the best, yes. So Noctis knows already? Interesting. But then again, the two of you seemed to be getting along quite nicely while we were driving, so I figured he would pick up on that fact almost immediately.”

“Oh.”  Prompto shifted on his feet. “Is… it that obvious?”

“Not particularly, no. You fooled me when we first met. And even after I figured it out, I kept forgetting that you weren’t human. You pass very well, Prompto. I don’t think you will need to worry too much about putting up a front.”

“Is… it really okay for us to be here?” Prompto asked, his eyes downcast.

“What do you mean?” Ignis set the bowl he was holding back down on the table, watching Prompto with concern.

“We mean, like... Here. In general. Where we are. With your companions.”  Prompto shifted on his feet again. “With you.”

“Prompto, if it were an issue, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of reprogramming you, and bringing you along with me.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know, but like... Is it… really okay?”

“Did something happen?”

“No, it’s just---”

“Prompto, you can talk to me.”

Prompto frowned.

“We’re just really confused.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Ignis smirked.  “That’s a very broad explanation.”

“Well, yeah? Think about it. Everything is new to us. We have no idea where we are. We have no idea what’s going on. We have no idea what those… those _thing_ s were, in the middle of the road. And like, you guys all just went and made weapons appear out of nowhere, like it was totally normal, and we’re _pretty sure_ none of our guests could do stuff like that? So yeah, Ignis, we’re really confused about _everything_ and we’re starting to think that maybe... Maybe leaving the aquarium was a mistake, and----”

There came a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Prompto, you’re fine. You belong here, with me. It’s your directive, is it not?” Ignis said calmly.

“Yeah, but---”

“And you made the decision yourself to leave. This was something you did for yourself.”

“We _know_ , but---”

“You want to find your brothers. You wanting to leave the aquarium doesn’t have anything to do with me. I’m merely your escort; the directive override was simply something that needed to happen in order to make it possible.”

Prompto’s shoulders sank. “...yeah.”

He knew Ignis was right, about everything. Then why did he feel so… so…

“As for your confusion… I sincerely apologize. You’re right. My companions and I… we’re not exactly like your guests.” Ignis moved his hand away from Prompto’s shoulder as he took a slow breath. He seemed uneasy, like he wasn’t sure how to explain himself, either.

“If a guest could bring a gigantic sword into the aquarium, yeah, we’d say that’s kind of a _massive_ security breach,” Prompto said, crossing his arms.

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, I’d be inclined to agree.”

“So are you gonna tell us what’s going on, or what?” Prompto asked, almost accusingly.

“It’s… complicated,” was the reply. Ignis picked the bowl up again, setting it inside of another bowl, before he turned to head for the campfire again.

“Noctis said his ‘job’ was complicated, too. So we guess the whole swirly colourful lights and magically appearing weapons thing is part of his ‘job’?” Prompto pressed, desperate to find any shred of sense hiding in that scene he’d witnessed earlier.

Ignis stopped in his tracks. “Correct.”

“Just _who the heck_ are you guys? Are… are _you guys_ even ‘human’?” Prompto knew he should stop with the questions, but they just… wouldn’t stop coming. Before he could get a reply, though---

“Hey Iggy, dinner almost ready?” Gladio’s sudden voice severed their conversation in half, just like the massive broadsword Gladio had used during the battle with the armored creatures.

“Perfect timing, Gladio. I was just about to serve it up,” Ignis replied, smiling at the man.  “Why don’t you go and have a seat?”

“Sweet. Thanks, Iggy. You gonna be joining us too, uhh... Sorry, I forgot your name.”  Gladio looked at Prompto, and Prompto stood up straight when he felt his eyes on him. He still wasn’t so sure what to make of this… very large man. Large Man, indeed.

“It’s Prompto. And no, he won’t be joining us. Unfortunately, he’s come down with a bout of carsickness,” Ignis explained smoothly.  “Prompto, why don’t you go and get some rest? The beds are all made; you can use mine. It’s the one directly beside Noctis.”

Prompto nodded.  “Thanks.” He forced a smile, then turned to head for said tent. He was grateful for the cover, but at the same time, he’d… kind of wanted to sit with the two of them. But he understood. It would be strange if he didn’t eat, after all that driving they’d done to get here.

Prompto stepped into the tent. Immediately, he saw Noctis on the far side; the man was bundled up like a butterfly in a cocoon, much like the ones back in the Amazon exhibit. Prompto could hear the harsh rising and falling of his breath as he slept, and he couldn’t help but wonder… what happened to him? Why was he so tired all the time?

Prompto crawled into the sleeping bag at the man’s side, lying down. He didn’t need to rest. He didn’t need to sleep. But maybe...it would be for the best if he stayed out of the others’ hair for now. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Noctis’ breathing to pass the time, thoughts of the day’s events playing over and over in his head.

He thought about the experience of driving in a car. Of traveling long distances.

He thought about the encounter with the ‘daemons’, as Ignis had called them.

He thought about the possibility of, what he determined was the closest definition he could find, thanks to Moogle, magic.

He thought about the darkness.

The world outside the aquarium walls was so dark. Abandoned. There was nothing out here. No buildings. No people, no animals. No other cars on the road. And according to Ignis, it was cold. Very cold.

What happened to the world?

≈

“What the _fuck,_ Ignis?”

Prompto’s moment of relaxation came to an abrupt end when agitated voices destroyed the serene air of the campsite beyond the tent.

“What the hell’s come over you? You know that doing something stupid like this is, well, stupid? And not to mention dangerous. Did you even think things through? Wait, what am I saying. Of _course_ you didn’t. Otherwise this wouldn’t even be happening in the first place.”

A sigh. “You misunderstand.”

“What’s there to misunderstand?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What, and you do?”

“Actually, yes, I do.”

“And since when are you an expert?”

“I ask the same to you.”

Gladio. And Ignis.

What were they talking about? Were they… arguing?

“I know enough.”

“And you’re implying I don’t? To hear you accuse me of making a brash decision without thinking of the consequences and carefully considering the scenario, is, quite frankly, rather insulting.”

“Did you even consider Noctis? His safety? _Our_ safety?”

“He isn’t dangerous, Gladio.”

“So, you’re telling me that some kind of bootleg MT unit _isn’t_ dangerous in some capacity? What if it’s unstable? What if it’s being remotely controlled by someone who wants to jeopardize our mission, and was planted purposely in that place with the intent of manipulating you into trusting it? Did you ever consider _that_ , Ignis?”

“He.”

“ _What_?!”

“‘He’. Not ‘it’.”

“It’s not human, Ignis. A machine is an ‘it’. Do you call your phone ‘he’, too?”

Prompto’s eyes widened.

They… were talking about him.

“And for the record, what you are suggesting is preposterous. Even if someone were intending to jeopardize our mission, to suggest that they would plant someone with malintent in an _aquarium_ , of all places, a location that we may or may not even come across in our travels at all is just... Gladio, this is ridiculous. I’m not going to have this conversation with you.”

“Ignis. Ignis, get back here. We’re not done.”

“But I _am._  Good night, Gladiolus.”

“Ignis!”

“Gladiolus, you know as well as I do that when you’re like this, you are incapable of having a logical conversation.”

A frustrated noise. Then a pause. “Okay, fine. I’m fine. I’m _good_. Let’s chat.”

“Very well. Gladio, Prompto is not an MT.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I reprogrammed him.”

“Oh, so you mean he _was_ one?”

“No. You know as well as I do that MTs have not been in service for many, many years. It’s in the past. Production has ceased. There are none left in the world. I’m not sure exactly what Prompto _is_ , per se, but I do know what he is _not_. He is not an MT. What I know for sure is that he is an advanced type of A.I., one of which I have never seen before. You were fooled until now, were you not? You had no idea he wasn’t human.”

“Well, yeah, but---”

“An MT could never pass as a human.”

Gladiolus sighed. Another pause. “I hate to say it, but… you’re right.”

“I thoroughly analyzed Prompto during our first interaction through to our last, and when I accessed his system during the reprogramming process, I couldn’t see any signs of him being anything other than a simple service bot. On the surface, that is what he was. But the more time I spent with him, the more I began to realize that something about him...is…unique. Prompto... is special. As far as I’m concerned, and as far as anyone else should be, he is no different than you or me. He is more ‘human’ than some of the humans I’ve had the _pleasure_ of meeting.”

Prompto was tense as he listened in on the conversation. He didn’t understand it all, but what he _did_ understand was that Ignis… was defending him.

“Ignis---”

“Believe what you wish, Gladiolus, but I firmly believe that Prompto is not dangerous, and if somehow he ends up being so, then I will accept the consequences and deal with him as necessary. He is, through and through, my responsibility. My suggestion to you from now on is to step outside of your narrow-minded viewpoint and treat him as you would myself or Noctis. And if you can’t bring yourself to do even that, then I will ask you to simply leave him be.”

Silence.

Beside Prompto, there came a groan. “They’re at it again, huh?”  Noctis muttered, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Noctis?”  Prompto whispered. He’s awake? But shouldn’t he be sleeping?

How much had he heard?

“....told you Gladio was weird.” Noctis smiled another one of his trademark tired smiles.

“He hates us, doesn’t he?”  Prompto frowned, drawing his knees close to himself. “We… don’t want anyone to hate us. Is there anything we can do?”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t hate you. Like I said... He’s just stubborn. He just doesn’t understand. But see? Ignis is setting him straight. It’s cool.”  Noctis sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes.

Prompto wasn’t convinced. This feeling he had right now… it was similar to when a guest would give him a hard time. When a guest would get in his face and yell at him about something out of his control, something that he had nothing to do with and had no power to fix, such as the food quality in the cafeteria, or the price of a souvenir pamphlet from the shop.

He didn’t like it.

“I’ll go out there and see what’s up.”  Noctis slowly started to get to his feet.

Alarmed, Prompto jumped to his feet as well.  “Shouldn’t you stay in bed? Gladio and Ignis, they said you needed to rest, right?” he said, offering his shoulder in case Noctis needed it.

“Yeah, I do need to rest, but... I also need to eat. I’m _starving_.”  Noctis, despite himself, seemed to be able to stand on his own two feet with no problem. He smiled at Prompto again. “Thanks, though. Y’know, you’re all right. Gladio’ll come around when he sees how nice you are. And for the record… I don’t think you’re dangerous, either. I trust Iggy’s intuition. He wouldn’t have even given you the time of day if he didn’t have his reasons for it. So you’re OK in my books.”

Prompto wasn’t sure what to say.

“Anyway… don’t sweat it. I’ll be back soon.” Noctis patted Prompto’s shoulder affectionately before he shuffled out of the tent, another yawn escaping him.

Prompto… felt like he’d made a friend, just then.

He smiled to himself, then moved to lie down once more in Ignis’ sleeping bag.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” Noctis’ voice came, this time a few feet away from the tent. A pause. “Beans? Are you _serious_ right now?”

“And chunky beef soup,” replied Ignis. “Noct, you really shouldn’t---”

“Hard to sleep when you guys are busy arguing at the top of your lungs.” There was a clink sound, likely a spoon against a bowl, before there was a shift. Noctis sitting down in one of the camping chairs, probably.

“Sorry, Noct,” came Gladiolus’ voice. He sounded sheepish, now, drastically different from how he had moments prior. “We’re done arguing now, if that helps.”

“Not really, but it’s fine. I’m gonna eat then go back to bed. Then you guys can argue all you want. But maybe a little quieter next time.”  

“I believe we’ve worked out our differences, Noct, so that won’t be necessary,” Ignis said. “I apologize for waking you. We’ll be off to bed ourselves, soon, most likely.”

“Hey, before you head back… think you could spare me a charge?” chimed Gladio.

A charge?

Noctis groaned. “Oh, come _on_.”

“My phone’s at five percent, Noct.”

“I hate to bother you with this as well, Noct, but if you wouldn’t mind…” Ignis trailed off.

A heavy sigh. “You guys are always telling me not to overexert myself, and then you pull _this_? Okay, okay, whatever,” Noctis replied briskly. “Hand them over.”

There was a moment where no one spoke, and nothing appeared to happen, but then Prompto saw a flash of light briefly spark around the campsite. As quickly as it had happened, it was over, and went dark once more.

“There. Happy now?”

“Yep. Thanks, Noct. You’re the best.”

“You have my thanks.”

Noctis muttered something under his breath.  “No problem,” he said audibly afterward. “Oh, and Gladio? Be nice to Prompto, would you?”

Gladiolus sighed this time. “Yeah, yeah, Your Majesty.”

….Majesty?

Prompto rested his head down, ‘sleeping’, and tried not to dwell on the questions he still had circulating in his mind, while new ones continued to surface.

≈

The days that followed were similar. Drive a few hours. Take a detour so the others could slay daemons. Noctis slept while they drove some more. Hours and hours of driving. Then at the end of the day, they would make camp, rest, and continue on the same as they had the day before.

Prompto still had no answers to all of his questions.

But, he was starting not to mind so much, as his quest for knowledge about his companions was quickly replaced with a thirst for knowledge about the world around him instead. About… human things. So many things interested him, and when he’d thoroughly annoyed his companions with questions, he kept to himself, Moogling words and the names of objects until he ended up getting caught in an endless loop of irrelevance again.

“How’re you able to do that, anyway?” Noctis had asked one day, when Prompto explained what he was doing when his eyes darted around and he wasn’t saying a word. “Do you have internet access or something?”

“Yeah. We guess it’s kinda like how you can go on the internet with your cell phones. As long as there’s a signal, or an internet hotspot, we can use the internet as much as we want, when we want. It’s handy, right?” Prompto grinned.

“Wait, so you can, like… hack into networks?”  Noctis asked, staring at Prompto with a hint of suspicion.

“Kinda? Probably not in the way you think, though. It’s more like… we’re able to utilize any sort of internet connection, as long as it’s available and easily accessible. If it’s heavily encrypted, we can’t get in no matter what. We don’t have that kind of capability, so it’s not like… we’re some kinda super hacker like... in the movie Hackers.”

“What?” Noctis looked at him quizzically.

“Y’know, ‘Hackers’. That old movie where, and we quote: ‘Hackers (1995) follows a group of high school hackers and their involvement in a corporate extortion conspiracy. Made in the 1990s when the internet was unfamiliar to the general public’.”

Noctis had no idea what he was talking about. Just what sort of weird things did Prompto research in his spare time?

Prompto had a lot of spare time.

A lot of spare time that was spent in the car with the others. He and Noctis entertained each other during their travels, helping pass the time before they made it to their next potential camping ground. Through Noctis, Prompto learned about a lot of things that Moogle could never teach him. And it was thanks to Noctis that he was able to experience what entertainment media was firsthand, such as movies and TV shows. And games. Video games. More specifically, he was able to experience playing King’s Knight for the first time.

King’s Knight… was incredible.

It wasn’t long before Prompto begged Ignis for his own cell phone. Unable to give him one of his own quite yet for obvious reasons, Ignis temporarily loaned Prompto his, which Prompto thoroughly analyzed and learned how to use in no time flat, despite it being different than Noctis’. Now, he and Noctis could play King’s Knight together.

Then, before he knew it, another week had passed. And at long last, they finally reached their destination.

A settlement. A compound. Ignis explained that when the world fell to darkness and the daemons came, the humans that remained in the world gathered together to create safe havens scattered across the globe, places where daemons could not enter. These havens were the closest that the world had to towns, now, generally built on the grounds of fallen buildings from ten years ago. They were communities, where former refugees worked together to rebuild something resembling a city, a society, until the darkness would be lifted from the world once more.

Ignis also explained that there were some havens that they were not granted entry to.

Noctis shifted uncomfortably when he said that.

Did it have something to do with Noctis?

Prompto still had so many questions.

They were granted access to this settlement, much to their relief, and immediately upon word of their arrival, the townspeople rushed over to greet them. They showed them the way to the hotel, explaining that they were able to stay ‘on the house’, whatever that meant, and all Prompto could do was go along with his friends, wide-eyed with wonder and curiosity.

The town… was something else.

Buildings. _People_ . Food. There was food here, and shelter. People _lived_ here. It was lively. Prompto felt that it resembled the aquarium during the high season, when it was always busy and there were always guests to serve. There were kids here. _Kids_. He wanted to greet everyone and take their photos, but he resisted for the time being, keeping close to his friends so he didn’t risk getting separated.

The people were friendly so far. But they stared at him when he passed by.

Did they _know_?

No, they didn’t.

What they _did_ know… was that he was dressed strangely compared to everyone else in the town, who all wore warm, thick and fuzzy winter attire. Some of the teenagers appeared to recognize him from the aquarium, former kids, and it took everything in him to not stop and chat with them, track down their photos in his memory cards.

Ignis had told him that one way or another, he was going to have to ditch the uniform, eventually.

But he really didn’t want to.

With Noctis fast asleep in one of the two beds in the hotel room, Gladiolus decided to go off on his own for the time being to explore the town. Prompto stood outside on the patio, taking photos of the sights below, of the dimly lit compound of the ‘town’, and the clear, starry sky above. Ignis, meanwhile, sat on the unused bed, occupied with something, enjoying the moment of peace and the comfort of something other than a sleeping bag on the ground beneath him for once.

When Prompto heard the door close and Gladiolus leave, he perked up in realization.

He had Ignis all to himself now.

Now… he could finally, maybe… learn more about him.

Seizing the opportunity, Prompto came back inside, slowly sliding the glass patio door closed as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake Noctis by accident. He set his camera down on the table for the time being before he looked over at Ignis.

Ignis.

Ignis, no longer in his winter clothes, sat on the edge of the bed opposite to Noctis’. His long jacket hung on the coat rack by the door, leaving his current attire to what Prompto assumed was what he wore beneath it on a regular basis. He’d never seen him wear so little clothing before; he wondered if maybe the hotel was warmer than the outdoors. Ignis wore a pinstriped white dress shirt buttoned neatly in the front, a pair of suspenders fastened over his shoulders to his black pants on both sides. Green Argyle socks donned his bootless feet, and despite the warmth of the room, the man still wore his gloves.

“Hi Ignis,” Prompto said, almost nervously.

Prompto had become so used to having the others around that now that it was just the two of them again, he almost wasn’t sure how to approach him. Ignis Scientia had an air of… professionalism around him. A different... aura, almost. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Prompto had compared him to one of the aquarium’s high-ranking executives, once. However, the stark difference between those executives and Ignis was that Ignis… was kind. Even compared to how Ignis treated his other companions, Prompto felt that he was especially kind towards him. He didn’t have to be nervous around him. He had no reason to be.

He was bound to this man, after all. He had to accompany him, wherever he may go.

He wanted to know more about him.

He wanted to be close to him.

He… was determined, to learn about him.

“Prompto, hello,” Ignis greeted in return. He looked at Prompto over his shoulder and smiled, adjusting his glasses as he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose, having slid forward from looking downward for too long.  “How are you liking the hotel so far?”

“Oh, y’know… it’s… good?”  Prompto smiled crookedly, holding his hands in front of himself. “We’ve never been in a hotel before, so… this is our first time. So far, it ranks a solid nine out of ten.”

“Oh? And what’s keeping it from being a ‘solid’ ten?” the man replied, amused.

“We read that hotels generally have a pool? This one doesn’t look like it has one. We wanted to see it. Maybe take some pics there or something.”

Ignis chuckled. “I think it would be for the best if you refrained from swimming anyway, Prompto.”

“Why? Worried we’d win if we raced each other? We could swim _laps_ around you, dude.”

“I see you’ve been reading up on swimming.”  Ignis patted the spot on the bed beside him. “Come, join me for awhile, Prompto.”

Prompto stared. He felt strange, all of a sudden. He’d heard the invitation, and acknowledged it, but why did he feel hesitant?

“Okay.”

And with that, he walked over and sat down beside Ignis, bringing his hands to rest in his lap. This was the closest he’d been to Ignis in a long time. Even when they were sleeping in the tent, Prompto ‘slept’ on the opposite side of Gladio, always the closest to the tent door.

As Prompto sat there, Ignis said nothing, focused on the task at hand. Curious, Prompto looked down at Ignis’ hands, interested in what Ignis had been doing before he interrupted him. Ignis held a heap of fabric on his lap, his hands busy with a needle and thread.

“So… What’re you doing?” Prompto asked innocently.

“Sewing,” was the reply. Ignis produced a small pair of scissors from a pouch at his side, filled with spools of thread, needles and pins in a tomato-shaped pin cushion. He snipped the thread, tied it off, then began to sew a different area of the fabric.

“Sewing…” Prompto plopped that term into Moogle. His eyes lit up. “Dude. You know how to that?”

Ignis nodded. “It comes with the occupation.”

“Which is…” Prompto leaned closer, mesmerized by the motion of Ignis’ hands as the needle and thread passed through the fabric in perfect little dashes.

“Back home, many years ago, I owned my own tailor shop. It was what I did for a living. Clients would bring me their clothing that required alterations, and I would do so for compensation. Pants, shirts, dresses, and even purses, at times, I would repair if they could pay the cost. It began as a hobby, and soon it became a way to pay my bills.”

“ _Dude._ ” Prompto stared at him.

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, Prompto?”

“That’s _incredible._ ”  Prompto leaned back on his hands, in awe.

“Oh, come now. It’s nothing special, I assure you.”

Was Ignis… blushing?

“Yeah, it is. Don’t be modest, dude. We may not know a lot about… stuff, but we can tell that that isn’t something just _anyone_ can do. Sewing clothes. That’s… actually really cool. And helpful, we bet. Right? It’s a good skill to have, right?” Prompto studied Ignis, noting his almost shy expression.

“At last, someone who understands the importance of possessing basic sewing skills,” Ignis replied, setting the fabric and needle down for the time being. “The number of times I’ve had to repair Noct and Gladio’s clothing is rather embarrassing, and yet, they refuse to learn how to do so themselves. Gladio claims his hands are just ‘too large’ to hold a needle, which is just plain silly. Anyone can sew, large hands or not. Mine aren’t exactly small, either.”

Prompto shifted a little on the bed.  “Can… you show us how?”

Ignis smiled. “What, right now?”

“Heck yeah.”

“Very well.”

That afternoon, Prompto learned how to thread a needle and stitch a seam.

Ignis handed the heap of fabric that Prompto had learned was actually a garment over to the eager blond. “Go on, then. Why don’t you try it on?” he suggested, his tone airy and light.

Prompto blinked. He glanced down at the garment, then back up at Ignis. “Huh?”

“The jacket, Prompto. Try it on, won’t you?”

Prompto… had never….

“We, uh….” Prompto began.

Ignis clued in right away.

“Come, stand with me. I’ll help you.”

Prompto slowly got to his feet.

He’d never had to undress, or even dress himself, before. It… was a little embarrassing, now that he thought about it. His costume changes had always been done by the administrator in the past, during maintenance, if his outfit tore or needed to be cleaned. He was never ‘conscious’ for it, and he’d had no need to undress since they’d left the aquarium.

Thankfully, putting on a jacket didn’t involve undressing, but Prompto still felt a little clueless, so he was grateful for Ignis’ help. The taller man stood in front of him, at first holding the jacket up to Prompto’s body, measuring, calculating. Then, with a smile and a curt nod, as if approving of his handiwork, he helped Prompto slide his arms through the sleeves, then pulled the garment around his body.

Prompto said nothing, silently processing and logging away as much information as he could regarding clothing. Sewing. And Ignis. Most of all, Ignis. Ignis was kind and gentle, even when completing a simple task such as putting a jacket on someone. Ignis’ hands moved to Prompto’s middle as he pulled the jacket closed around his body, lining up the buttons and pressing them together with a satisfying light _snap_ each time.

Ignis took a step back and studied Prompto.

Prompto fidgeted awkwardly. Ignis’ gaze always made him feel strange.

“Just as I predicted; a perfect fit.” Ignis said proudly. “Why don’t you go look in the mirror, Prompto, and tell me what you think?”

“...okay.”

Prompto left Ignis for a moment to do just that, disappearing into the bathroom and flicking on the light switch.

Staring back at Prompto in the mirror was… himself, only he could barely recognize his reflection. Always wearing the aquarium uniform since day one, he had never seen himself dressed any other way. The jacket, as Ignis had announced prior to his leaving the room, was a perfect fit to his slender build; the perfect length not only on the arms, but on his hips as well. Not a puckered seam or loose thread to be found.  The jacket was lined with a soft, yet thick fabric, a winter jacket through and through; black with white furred trim along the collar and sleeves that snapped together with buttons down the length of the front.

“Well?” Ignis called from the other room.

Prompto bit his lip. Then, turning, he left the bathroom to meet with Ignis once more.

“It’s….” Prompto began.

“Yes?” Ignis urged, eager to hear his thoughts.

“....great.” Prompto’s hands fell to his sides, holding an awkward stance.

“Ah. I’m glad to hear that.” Ignis smiled warmly.

“Why did you want us to put this on, Ignis?”  Prompto asked. He truly didn’t understand.

“A gift. From me to you,” Ignis explained.

Prompto froze.  

“A gift?” he squeaked.

“Yes, a gift.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I wanted you to have it. It’s actually been my little project for the last few nights. The jacket used to belong to Noct, once upon a time, but he’s become so fond of his rather… loosely fitting parka that he hasn’t worn it in quite some time. So, rather than let it go to waste, I felt that because the two of you are similar in build and height, you could perhaps use it instead. Remember what I told you? It’s better if you try and... blend in, now that we’re around civilization again. I’m not saying you need to dispose of your current outfit, but…”

“We get it,” Prompto interrupted.

“Prompto?”

“Sorry. We don’t mean to be rude. We’re just having a hard time… understanding, for some reason.”

“It’s quite all right,  Prompto.”

“We just…”

“Yes?”

“We’re just… really…happy?”

“Oh?”

“...we’ve never… been given a gift before. We mean, other than the frog keychain from Sania. But… this is the first gift we’ve been given... from you.”

“Ah. I suppose you’re right. Do you like it?

Prompto smiled. “Yeah. Is it… really okay if we have this? Like, really okay?”

“Yes, Prompto. It’s all yours.”

“....thanks, Ignis.”

“You’re very welcome, Prompto.”

Prompto ran his hands along the fur-trimmed collar.

Prompto never wanted to take it off.


	6. INSIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your support on this journey so far, you keep me going <3

** DATA LOG #6: INSIGHT**

 

That evening, Prompto learned what dinner time was like at a settlement.

What he hadn’t expected was to be led at Ignis’ side over to the far end of the compound, where a courtyard area had been built over the years. Grass and flowers and even a few trees grew there, aided by the artificial UV lighting that shone above them from the lamp posts. Benches and tables and chairs lined the perimeter, surrounding a large fire that burned with a cheery brightness and lit up the faces of the people nearby. Decorations hung from the trees, along the tall walls that circled the compound and shielded the settlement from harm. The entire town gathered here, chatting among themselves pleasantly. Kids ran around, laughing. The atmosphere was all around joyful. It was like… it was....

“It resembles a party, does it not?” said Ignis, smiling as he regarded Prompto’s awe-struck expression.

“Y-yeah. It _is_ a party, dude. Forget resembling,” Prompto replied, staring at the scene in front of him. “It’s.. kinda like when the aquarium held special late-night events for kids, and sometimes teens. Birthday parties. Sometimes, there’d even be events where kids could spend the night inside the exhibit halls, in front of the tanks. Eat cake and watch movies projected on the walls, stuff like that. They loved it.”

“That does sound like a good time, Prompto. Were adults allowed to attend, as well?”

“Well, as chaperones, yeah. Oh, you mean like, if they got to have their own sleepover events too, right? Nah, there wasn’t anything like that. Too rowdy. We think they tried it once, but then the guests snuck in alcohol and… there was a huge, uh, mess. Maintenance wasn’t too thrilled the next day.”

“Ah. A shame it had to be ruined by those who truly couldn’t appreciate the privilege,” Ignis replied wistfully. “I would have liked to have experienced sleeping in a room lit by nothing but the ambience of a fish-filled aquarium, just once. It would have been a spectacle to behold, for sure.”

Prompto watched as the flames from the nearby bonfire flickered and danced in the reflection of Ignis’ glasses.

“Do you have our contribution, Prompto?” Ignis asked, peering at him.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. We got it. Right here.” Prompto lifted the bag they’d packed together at the hotel before they’d made their way over to the festivities.

Ignis had explained to Prompto that meals, dinner in particular, were generally shared and enjoyed as a group event in the settlements with the intention of boosting morale during these literal dark times, a tradition of sorts. Current residents and especially newcomers would offer a contribution to the feast or the community as a whole, whether in the form of food, beverages, clothing or even toys for the children.

Prompto and Ignis decided to contribute some of the canned goods and two containers of instant Ebony coffee that they had salvaged from the aquarium.

And two packages of Tonberry Poop.

After dropping off their offering with the organizers, the pair made their way over to one of the unoccupied benches, sitting down together. Ignis, dressed in his long winter jacket once more, complemented Prompto’s appearance. Prompto wore the jacket he was gifted with earlier, and instead of his puffy ocean-themed shorts, he now wore a pair of black slacks and matching boots. Around his neck was a long blue scarf, the ends hanging just above his hips. It was strange to be wearing different clothes now, but… Ignis was right. He looked like he fit in, now.

Prompto glanced at the man beside him.

Prompto… had no idea what to say. And neither did Ignis, as the man seemed perfectly content in the silent air between them, his eyes taking in the sights of the town’s gathering in front of them.

Normally, Prompto would have been content with the silence, too, but he felt compelled to converse with Ignis. There was still so much he didn’t know about him, and… he wanted to hear his voice. So, he wanted to say something. Anything. But what?

“Hey, Ignis?” he began.

“Yes, Prompto?” Ignis replied.

Even in the dim light, his seafoam eyes were striking.

Ignis’ eyes threatened to brick his OS. Why, Prompto had no clue. It wasn’t that he was intimidated by him - far from it, really - but he was just… He just didn’t understand it. He quickly averted his gaze, watching as a group of children played with chocobo plushies not far from them.

“Did… did you know that the end of a shoelace is called an aglet?” Prompto blurted.

Ignis stared at him, confused by the random subject. Then, with an amused smirk he replied, “Actually, believe it or not, yes, I did. I assume you’ve been making good use of your spare time on the internet?”

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto said sheepishly. “We guess you could say that.”

“Please, regale me with another tidbit of wisdom, Prompto,” Ignis mused.

“Okay, uh… oh! Hey, didja know that Super Mario Bros. 2 (USA) for the Nintendo Entertainment System is actually a reskinned version of a game called Doki Doki Panic?”

“Is that so? Fascinating.”

“Oh, oh, and the first recorded instance of chewing gum was a fossilized specimen recovered from the stone ages, made from tree sap and honey.”

“You don’t say. I didn’t know that.”

Prompto grinned. “Oh, and get _this_. You cook and stuff, right? Y’know nutmeg? Didja know that nutmeg is extremely poisonous if injected intravenously?”

Ignis chuckled at that one. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I feel inspired to take a hit while preparing dinner.”

Ignis’ upper lip had the most perfect cleft. When Prompto Moogled what the dip in the top lip was called, he learned it could be coined as a ‘Cupid’s Bow’. When he learned what _that_ was, well, there really was no better word for it. Ignis’ Cupid’s Bow. It was… perfect.

Before Prompto could continue with his never-ending supply of useless facts, his thought process was interrupted by the sound of voices bellowing and cheering in excitement.

“Eh?” he blinked, glancing around. “Something going on?”

“Oh, no,” Ignis murmured, a sigh following. “He’s not going to like this.”

“Huh? Who’s not going to like what?” Prompto was lost already.

“Noct.”

Entering the courtyard was Noctis, and at his side, Gladiolus. He looked stiff, and when the townsfolk began to crowd around him, he moved his arms around himself in a defensive stance.

“Your Majesty!” someone crowed.

“See? I _told_ you he was here!” gabbed another.

“Your Majesty, thank you so much for stopping by! If you need anything, anything at _all,_ please don’t hesitate to ask!”

“Your Majesty, over here, we want to ask you something!”

“Your Majesty, thank you for everything you’ve done for us!”

“Your Royal Highness--”  

“No, not ‘highness’. He’s not the prince anymore, he’s the king, remember?”

“O-oh! Right! Your Majesty, I just wanted to say---”

Prompto felt like he was drowning. He’d heard Gladiolus call Noctis ‘Your Majesty’ once, but he’d thought it was in jest, just a playful nickname. So… what exactly was going on?

Ignis sighed again. “I suppose I should go and rescue him,” he murmured, slowly rising to his feet.

Prompto reached for the man’s sleeve as he stared up at him with wide, confused eyes. “Ignis? What’s going on? ‘Majesty’? _What_?” he squeaked.

“Ah. I suppose I forgot to fill you in on one minor detail,” Ignis replied, looking down at Prompto. “Noctis is the King of Lucis.”

≈

Dinner, much to Noctis’ dismay, had become an… event.

Soon, everyone in the settlement knew that the King of Lucis had graced them with his presence. They adorned him with a crown made of flowers grown in the compound. Kids hugged him. The leader of the settlement requested that he light their torch that stood behind the bonfire, a tall and strong ‘Beacon of Hope’, as they had called it.

Hesitantly, Noctis complied, walking up to the torch while the townspeople watched in wonder. He raised his hand, gave a flick of the wrist, and within seconds a burst of flame appeared above his palm. The crowd ooh’ed and ahh’ed, and a boom of applause echoed off the settlement walls around them. Then, the torch was lit. The ‘Beacon of Hope’.

_Hope._

What were they hoping for?

Despite his earlier intent to go and ‘rescue’ Noctis, Ignis remained with Prompto, deeming that having Gladiolus at Noctis’ side was sufficient for the time being. Even with a companion beside him and the adoration of the common folk, Noctis looked extremely uncomfortable during the entire ordeal… especially when he was asked to say a few words before dinner was served.

Prompto remained seated on the bench, Ignis happily eating a plateful of food at his side. It was the most food Prompto had ever seen on a plate before. It was no wonder that Ignis was so surprised to see that much food back in the aquarium cafeteria’s storage room.

“So… the King of Lucis, huh,” Prompto murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“That’s right,” Ignis replied. “I’m surprised you didn’t resort to hopping on Moogle the moment you heard his name for the first time.”

“We didn’t recognize his name. And… we… don’t really understand any of that. Royalty… magic… it kinda flies over our head. We had no idea those kinds of things even existed before we left the aquarium.”

“Do you understand, now? What my companions and I do when we come across daemons during our travels?”

“...sort of. We… figured that it was some kinda magic, but… it didn’t make any sort of sense to us… like we said. So, Noctis can use magic?”

“That’s right.”

“But only he can? Out of everyone else in the whole world?”

“Correct.”

“Wait, but what about you guys and your magically appearing weapons?”

“Ah, you see, Gladiolus and myself cannot use magic. However, by being in proximity of Noctis, we are able to use a form of magic that he entrusted to us.”

“....huh?”

“It’s… somewhat hard to explain. I’m sorry, Prompto,” Ignis said, sitting up straight on the bench as he placed his plate on his lap temporarily. “In summation, we are able to summon weapons in the blink of an eye that have been blessed by Noctis. They harbor special… properties. We are able to use them against the daemons, while normal weapons cannot harm them.”

“Huh.” Prompto stared at his boots. He wanted to say that he understood, he really did, but there was no denying that he was a bit lost.

“Now you see why I was hesitant to explain our… situation to you.”

“We guess. Huh. Cool.” Prompto sat up straight as well, mimicking Ignis’ posture. “So you guys are kinda like… starring in your own real-life version of King’s Knight, or something?”

Ignis smiled. “You could say that.”

“Sweet.” Prompto drummed his hands against his knees. “So, can we be blessed with a magical weapon, too?”

“Please don’t count on it.” Ignis picked up his plate again.

“Awww, man,” Prompto pouted. “C’mon. We’d be so _good_ at it. Lightning quick reflexes! Not unlike a Coeurl!” He raised his hands to his chest, curling his fingers like a cat’s claws as he bared his teeth.

“My job is to protect you, Prompto,” Ignis replied calmly. “Not put you in harm’s way.”

Prompto hesitated before lowering his hands. “Since when?” he asked curiously.

“Since the moment we stepped outside of that aquarium together,” came the simple answer.

Prompto looked over at Ignis. He studied him; studied his face, his stance… the man was really hard to read. Unlike most humans he’d come across in his ‘life’, Ignis didn’t quite wear his heart on his sleeve. He had an indecipherable expression on his face; not a hint of emotion to be found. He looked just… neutral. Almost distant.

“Hey… Can… you tell us where exactly we’re all going?” Prompto said after a moment. He’d tried asking this many times already, but each time he was shut down, or he was interrupted by someone or something. Right now, though… maybe he would be able to get some answers. “Like… this whole journey you guys are on. We’re just a stowaway, but.. You guys are actually on an important mission… aren’t you?”

Ignis cleared his throat. “Correct.”

“You keep telling us that Noctis’ job is ‘complicated’, right?” Prompto continued. “His job is being the king. Yeah, we guess that’s complicated, but that can’t be the whole thing, right?”

“Correct,” Ignis replied. “Being king is but one half of the job he has been given.”

“Then… what’s the other half?”

“There is somewhere he must go.”

“And that somewhere is….” Prompto made a circle with his wrist, trying to get Ignis to spill it already. His interest was beyond piqued now. “What is he gonna do when he gets there?”

“His job is to restore the light to the world.”

Prompto stared. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“And how’s he gonna do that? Oh, it’s because he’s magical, right?”

“That’s part of it, yes.”

“What’s the other part?”

“Prompto---”

“We really wanna know. How’s he gonna do it?” Prompto urged.

“It’s---”

“Don’t say ‘it’s complicated’, please.”

Ignis sighed. “Prompto, it’s not my place to talk about this,” he said quietly. “But I also don’t recommend asking Noctis about it, either. This journey we’re on is very… personal, for him.”

“Why?”

Ignis paused. “It’s complicated.”

“Igniiiiiiiiiis,” Prompto complained.

“Prompto, please.”

“We’re gonna explode if you don’t tell us.” Prompto tapped his boots against the ground.

“Ah, then please, feel free to enjoy your inevitable malfunction,” Ignis burned.

Prompto laughed. “Please?” he tried again.

Somewhere along the way during this line of questioning, Ignis had begun to shift uncomfortably on the bench. “I’m going to go and check up on Noct,” he announced, getting to his feet with his now-empty plate in hand.

“Oh! We’ll come, too!” Prompto hopped to his feet as well.

“That won’t be necessary, Prompto.”

Ignis turned, standing with his back facing Prompto. He didn’t take a step forward, yet he seemed to have no interest in looking directly at Prompto, either.

“We wanna see Noctis too,” Prompto pressed eagerly. “We wanna ask him---”

“That won’t be _necessary,_ Prompto,” Ignis snapped. “I thought I told you to refrain from asking Noctis about this subject.”

“But---”

“I shall see you again in a little while.” Ignis began to walk in the opposite direction, leaving Prompto dumbfounded, oblivious to what just happened.

“Wait!” Prompto stumbled after him, grabbing his sleeve. “Okay, okay, we won’t ask him about the whole job thing. We won’t even talk to him! We just... We just wanna…” He frowned, lowering his eyes. “...stay with you.”

Ignis sighed, and for a moment he said nothing. “That _also_ won’t be necessary,” he said sternly. His eyes met with Prompto’s, and this time, the usually soft emeralds were harder than a diamond.

“But Ignis, our dir---” Prompto began.

“Just because your directive states that you must accompany me wherever I may go does not mean it must be so at all times,” Ignis interrupted. “I’m still in the general vicinity of you, correct? You’re still accompanying me. Just not _directly_. You don’t have to stay literally at my side twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You are allowed to go off on your own, do as you please, whenever you feel so inclined.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go and speak with Noctis privately. You are welcome to stay here and converse with the townsfolk, or alternatively, you may return to the hotel room for the evening. But please, all I ask is that you leave me to my own vices for a while.” And with that, Ignis removed Prompto’s hand from his sleeve, turned, and began to walk away.

Prompto stared wide-eyed, watching as Ignis left him standing there by the bench, all alone.

His directive…

Technically, Ignis wasn’t wrong. But then why did it _feel_ wrong?

What just happened?

Ignis… Did he do something wrong? Did he make him mad? Did he hate him now? _What happened?!_

For the first time since his system first crashed, Prompto felt lost. Defeated, he slowly sank back down on the bench, keeping to himself as he tried to deal with yet another onslaught of error messages popping up in his mind. The more he thought about what had just occurred with Ignis, the more they showed, and soon it was as if he were fighting an internal war with his system.

Did he need to reboot? No, he _couldn’t_ reboot right now. He ran the risk of never waking back up. He was far, far away from the maintenance console at the aquarium, and even then… there was no guarantee that the maintenance console would be able to help him with errors of this frequency. He didn’t even know what these errors _meant_. Moogling them showed no results, and---

“Well, well, if it ain’t Johnny Five,” a familiar voice rumbled above him, interrupting his train of thought.

Startled, Prompto jerked. Usually he was aware of his surroundings at all times, but he’d been so busy with his head that he hadn’t even noticed that Gladiolus had approached him, standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Huh?” Prompto said, confused. He glanced around, wondering if Gladiolus was talking to someone else.

“Y’know, Short Circuit,” Gladiolus added, as if that made his greeting any more sensical.

“ _What_?” Prompto narrowed his eyes.

“It’s an old movie,” Gladiolus said simply.

Prompto dodged another error message long enough to run a quick Moogle search.

“Oh. Cuz we’re a robot, right? Clever,” Prompto muttered. “For the record, that’s not our name. Actually, it’s not even close.”

“Sorry. Baymax, was it? I’ll make sure I remember for next time,” Gladiolus replied, smirking.

Prompto’s brow furrowed. “Our name’s not Baymax, either.”

“Sorry, what was that? Chappie? Wait, no. It’s Wall-E, right? Damn. I’ll get it right one of these days.”

“We don’t comprehend.”

“It’s a joke.”

“No response available.”

Gladiolus chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’ll quit it. For real, now. Sorry. Prompto, right?” he said, moving to sit beside the blond on the bench.

“That’s right.” Prompto regarded the other from the corner of his eye.

Gladiolus… was an odd one. Prompto hadn’t actually spoken to him one-on-one before; the man had never really paid him much mind. He knew that apparently, according to Noctis, Gladiolus was weirded out by the whole robot thing, and he apparently didn’t hate him, but… Prompto still couldn’t help but feel a little off put by his presence. Why was he here?

“So, what’s with the whole ‘we’ thing?” Gladiolus asked casually.

“Speech impediment,” Prompto replied quickly. Ignis had told him to use that as an explanation if anyone ever asked him about it. _The way you speak isn’t… normal, to a human_ , Ignis’ voice repeated in his head. Again.

“Huh. Interesting.” Gladiolus leaned back on his hands, looking up at the starry sky above them. “Tell me. How’re you liking the town so far?”

“It’s… new,” Prompto answered. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say in response to that.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve never been somewhere like this before. Before we met Ignis, all we knew was the aquarium. That’s it.”

“Yeah, Ignis was telling me about that earlier. You must be overwhelmed, all this new shit coming at you all the time, huh?”

“...yeah,” Prompto said softly. “We… guess that’s one way of putting it.”

Gladiolus sighed. He paused. He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say. “Hey, listen. I... I know you and me… we haven’t exactly started off on the right foot.”

“Uh huh,” Prompto remarked, disinterested.

“And I know that’s entirely my fault. I’ve been kind of… a dick? I guess that would be the right word.” Gladiolus scrunched his face.

“Yep,” Prompto concurred, tapping the heel of his boot against the ground absently.

Gladiolus laughed. “Aw, c’mon. I’m trying to apologize! You’re not supposed to be _agreeing_ with me.”

“Yeah, but if you’re admitting it yourself, then it must be true, right?” Prompto did a quick Moogle search, and, ignoring all of the… inappropriately flagged websites, he navigated to good old Dictionary dot com. “‘Dick’,” he began to recite, “‘Vulgar usage. A mean, or contemptible person, especially a man.’”

Gladiolus groaned. “Uh huh.”

Prompto smiled. “We know you’re not really either of those things.”

Gladiolus looked surprised, his wide brows rising. “Oh yeah? And what makes you say that? You hardly know me.”

Prompto fiddled with the tassely end of his scarf. “If you were mean or contemptible, then Noctis and Ignis wouldn’t be your friend,” he said matter-of-factly.

Gladiolus smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, you got that right.”

“So… we forgive you.”

“Thanks, Prompto.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Prompto looked at Gladiolus for the first time since the man approached him and mimicked his pose, leaning back on his hands. “Noctis told us you were weird when it comes to technology.”

“‘Weird’?”

“Yep.”

“What an ass.”

“But that’s what it is, right? Why else would you be so… ‘dick’-ish, then, when you haven’t even talked to us before?” Prompto asked.

“Sorry. Guess I was just surprised and all. Never heard of an A.I. before. At least, not one as…” Gladiolus hesitated.

Prompto watched him innocently. “Go on.”

“As… convincing, as you?” Gladiolus rubbed at the back of his neck. “Like, damn. Ignis wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re really… Uh. What’s the right word...”

Prompto stared at him.

“...really…”

“Yeah?” Prompto urged.

“...human,” Gladiolus finished at last.

Prompto smiled. This time, he took it as a compliment. “We’re glad you think so. Makes things a little less… awkward, for us.”

“Well, that’s good,” Gladiolus replied.

Silence passed between them after that.

Prompto didn’t want their conversation to die quite yet. Now that he knew for sure that Gladiolus didn’t hate him, he wanted to talk to him more. He.. wanted to get to know him, too. He knew virtually nothing about him, and… if they were going to be friends, then they had to at least know a little about each other, right?

“So…” Prompto began after a moment. “Are Ignis and Noctis your only friends?”

“Nah. I had a bunch back home,” Gladiolus said, “but I guess you could say that I’m stuck with those two. Grew up together and all. Really close. You probably can’t tell from how much we argue all the time, but... Ignis is actually my best friend.”

Prompto’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

“I know, right? Me and Iggy. Besties. It’s messed up.” Gladiolus grinned.

Prompto whistled. “Wow. We… never would have guessed.”

Gladiolus laughed. “He pisses me off a lot. Most of the time, I hate him, and I’m sure the feeling’s mutual. But despite it all, he’s one of the few people in the world that actually ‘gets’ me. Noct and I don’t see eye to eye a lot of the time, but we get along just fine. Iggy, though? We _really_ don’t get along most of the time, but still, he knows what’s up. He can tell what I’m thinking, like he’s got some kind of sixth sense that’s fine-tuned to me. It’s kinda creepy, to be honest.”

Prompto didn’t comprehend. What Gladiolus described didn’t exactly match the dictionary definition of ‘best friend’. “So, who else ‘gets’ you, then?” he asked.

“Well, uh. Can’t really say that my family ‘gets’ me, so… that leaves one other person.” Gladiolus looked almost bashful, clearing his throat as he rubbed at the back of his neck with his large hand again.

“Yeah? And who would that be?” Prompto encouraged, scooting closer to the man along the bench. For some strange reason, he was compelled by the glimpse he was getting into Gladiolus’ personal life.

“I’ve… got a girlfriend,” Gladiolus admitted. He took a breath, than ran his fingers through his long hair.

Prompto perked up instantly. _Girlfriend_. He knew that term. He didn’t have to Moogle it; he had seen plenty of those at the aquarium, accompanied by their boyfriends, and girlfriends, too. “You do?!” he exclaimed, bouncing a bit in his seat. “Where? Is she here?”

Gladiolus laughed. “Nah, she’s not here. I wish, though. To be honest… I haven’t seen her in a year. We’re still together, and we communicate sometimes, but our paths are different right now, so… things have been a bit rough.”

“Oh.” Prompto frowned, ceasing his excitable fidgeting. “What is she like?”

“She’s… incredible,” Gladiolus said softly. He smiled faintly as he looked back up at the sky. “She’s beautiful. Smart. More than smart, actually. She’s a bloody genius. She makes me feel like an amoeba in comparison sometimes. She knows so much about so many things. She’s really into nature. The outdoors. That’s how we met, a long time ago. Ran into each other while she was out studying wildlife, accused me of chatting her up, and, well, the rest was history. I _was_ totally chatting her up though, not gonna lie, so she wasn’t wrong about that.”

“She _does_ sound incredible,” Prompto replied. He couldn’t help but smile, too. Knowing that Gladiolus had someone special in his life… it was… kind of sweet. “Do you like the outdoors? We noticed that you’re always the one setting up the tent and stuff.”

“Yeah. Love it. Used to go camping all the time, before the darkness set in, that is.” Gladiolus took a slow breath. “Hey. Do you know what a chocobo is, Prompto?”

Prompto’s face lit up. “Heck yeah we do! The kids at the aquarium were _crazy_ about them. Talked to us about them all the time. We wondered why the heck their parents brought them to the aquarium when clearly they should have been going on a trip to a chocobo ranch instead. We like them a lot. The aquarium allowed us to research them for guest conversational purposes. They’re really fascinating. We think they’d be fun to photograph.”

“Kids had good taste. They’re great animals, and even better companions.” Gladiolus smiled again, but it looked lonely, somehow. “I should know. I mean.. I used to be a professional chocobo racer and all.”

Prompto blinked as he leaned closer to the man. “Wait. A… chocobo racer?”

“Yeah.”

“Like. Racing. On chocobos.”

“Yep.”

“So... it was your job?”

“For awhile, yeah.”

Prompto’s grin was sudden and wide. “Oh. Em. Gee,” he crooned.

“What?” Gladiolus rubbed at the back of his neck again. Did he do that when he was feeling shy?

“You are now, officially, the coolest person alive,” Prompto stared at him with eyes filled with admiration.

Gladiolus laughed. “Nah, Iggy gets to wear that crown, but it’s good to know that _someone_ around here appreciates my greatness at last.”

“Is that why you have the feather earring?” Prompto asked. Whenever he looked at Gladiolus, it was all that he could focus on. The beautiful pumpkin-orange feather that hung at the side of his face, soft and shimmery, occasionally hiding among the man’s equally soft-looking hair. “That’s gotta be a chocobo feather, right?”

Gladiolus’ smile right then was wistful. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

“Wow. We’re so jealous. We hope we get to meet a real life chocobo someday. So, you don’t race anymore? Is it cuz of the journey you’re on right now?”

“Yeah.” Gladiolus took in a short breath. He shifted on the bench. “Part of it, anyway.”

“Oh?” Prompto inquired.

“Sorta hard to race when you don’t have a bird to race with anymore.”

Prompto didn’t understand. “You…don’t have a bird anymore? Did it run away?”

Gladiolus sighed. “I wish, but no. She... passed away. A long time ago, now.”

Prompto stiffened. He felt the cheerful air wilt like a flower, all at once.

“Oh… we’re… we’re really sorry to hear that,” Prompto said gingerly, lowering his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gladiolus replied. He leaned forward and brought his hands in front of his knees. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

“Did she have a name?” Prompto asked, then bit his tongue. “If... you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s okay. We won’t pry.”

“It’s all right. Her name was Spitfire. Beautiful sunset orange colour,” Gladiolus said. He was smiling again, though this time it was slowly filling with joy rather than sadness. Prompto couldn’t help but think that the expression really suited the otherwise rough-looking man.

“Y’know, for as long as I could remember, I always secretly had an affinity for chocobos. They’re cute and all, but they’re also powerful. They can pack a heavy kick when they really want to. Their beaks can crack bone. They’re damn fast. When I was a kid, I wanted one so bad. Then, when I discovered that chocobo racing was a thing, I wanted more than anything to be a choco-jockey when I grew up. My family hated me for awhile cuz no matter what they did, I just couldn’t be bothered to care about the family business. I underwent the training and everything, but decided when I was a teen that it really wasn’t my thing.

“Eventually, though, they came around. My dad bought me Spitfire when I was fifteen. Named her Spitfire for a reason. She was a feisty one. A little shit, really. But I loved her. I trained her up and we bonded, and she became my best friend. We won the first race we participated in. Soon, we got offered a job in the professional league, and… the rest is history.”

Prompto listened to Gladiolus, fascinated. “Wow,” he whispered.

“So we spent a lot of our time traveling together. Camping. Seeing the world. Racing. Felt like I was living the life.”

Prompto smiled a little. “Sounds great.”

“It was.” Gladiolus sat up straight, exhaling a slow, warm breath. “Then, the darkness hit, and we couldn’t race anymore. Nowhere to race. It was dangerous outside, but I couldn’t stay away. I still wanted to go places. Still wanted to camp. Unfortunately… that ended up being the worst mistake of my life.”

Prompto wanted to ask, but he backed down, biting his lip. Thankfully, Gladiolus continued of his own accord.

“One night, we camped in what was supposed to be a daemon-free area. Back then, the daemon population was still relatively low compared to what it is now. We’d just left a settlement not far from home, and were intending to head back there together during the next twenty-four hour cycle. Daemons attacked while I was sleeping. Spitfire got pissed, wouldn’t listen to me. She charged a daemon trying to protect me. Unfortunately... the daemon won. I managed to fend them off long enough to carry her back to the road. I contacted Iggy and he drove out to pick us up. Spitfire didn’t make it during the drive back home.”

Prompto frowned, fiddling with the end of his scarf again. “We’re… really sorry for your loss, Gladio.”

“I was just lucky we were close to home at that point. Got to give her a proper burial. Still miss her a lot.” Gladiolus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Got a pic of her on here. Just a sec.” He tapped the screen a few times, then turned the phone so Prompto could see.

On the phone screen was a photo of Gladiolus, hair a little shorter, age a little younger. He wore a tight black tanktop, exposing his large, muscled arms and what appeared to be a massive feathered tattoo that covered his exposed skin. Beside him was Spitfire. She looked healthy, radiant. Her feathers almost seemed to glow orange, they were so bright; they looked soft to the touch. Gladiolus was smiling, his hand on the bird’s cheek, and Prompto noticed Spitfire leaning in to the touch.

Prompto couldn’t help but smile as well as he took in the details of the photo. “You look happy.”

Gladiolus joined in on the smile fest. “Yep. That must have been me at my peak of happiness. Just me and my bird. That was when we were home for a little while, visiting, before we were off to another race a few towns over.”

“Where’s… home?” Prompto asked curiously.

“Insomnia. The only city still intact after the darkness set. Iggy, Noct and I live there. Noct had been gone for awhile until recently, though. Training across the water. He only just came back home before we set out on our journey together. Kept my mind off of losing Spitfire by taking up a job at a bookstore, of all places. Can you believe it? When I wasn’t working, I focused on training up with Iggy.”

“Training…” Prompto repeated.

“Yeah. My family’s part of the hunter organization. Dad was pretty thrilled to have me back home and training again, but too bad it wasn’t for what he wanted. I had to brush up on my skills if I’m supposed to deliver Noct to where he needs to go, after all.”

Prompto very nearly asked about Noctis when he stopped himself, remembering his conversation with Ignis. He... wasn’t supposed to ask.

Gladiolus whistled. “Wow. This is a little awkward. Sorry, for dumping all this all on you all of a sudden. Dunno what happened. It just all came out.”

Prompto immediately sat up straight. “No! No, don’t apologize! We’re glad! We wanted to know more about you, and… and… this is great! Thank you for telling us about Spitfire, and… and…”

Gladiolus clapped his hand against Prompto’s back. “It’s all good. Was nice to talk about that kind of stuff. Good for the heart and soul. Y’know, you’re not so bad after all, K-2SO.”

Prompto scrunched his nose. “It’s Prompto.”

“Kidding.”

≈

Gladiolus and Prompto spent some time together in the courtyard after their chat on the bench. Despite dinner being over, the townsfolk still remained in the square, enjoying the company of one another and basking in the heat of the bonfire and now the torch that Noctis had lit. Prompto kept close to Gladiolus’ side as they wandered around, listening as Gladiolus made small talk with some of the people there. It was then that Prompto realized just how… large, Large Man really was. Standing beside him, Gladiolus was like… a mountain. A tower. Prompto just felt so _small_ , like a mouse beside an elephant, and combined with the crowds of people surrounding them from every angle, he felt like he was disappearing into thin air.

“Hey, you all right?” Gladiolus asked, noticing that Prompto was practically cowering behind him after a few hours of them wandering the place. “Thought you were used to people from the aquarium and all.”

Prompto wondered that, too. He had been used to crowds of people and had never given them much thought before. But now? He felt… uneasy. It was a little overwhelming for him. Did the change of directive affect how he functioned in different situations and environments, now?

“Yeah, well, this isn’t the aquarium,” Prompto muttered. “We… think we’re gonna head back to the hotel now, if that’s okay with you.”

“No problem. You’re allowed to do whatever you want, right? It was fun hanging out with you. Guess I’ll see ya later, then.” Gladiolus smiled and ruffled Prompto’s hair.

Prompto’s hands shot up immediately to fix his hair. “Yeah. It was fun,” he replied. He smiled a little and raised his hand in a wave, then turned so he could begin wading through the crowd.

He hoped Noctis was okay.

After successfully navigating back to the hotel, Prompto slid the keycard for their room in the door and stepped inside. When he left the hotel earlier, he’d quickly realized that he’d made a grave mistake: he’d forgotten his camera. He’d missed it; after all, he’d never been without it back at the aquarium, ever, and it was like he was missing an extension of himself when he was without it. He was looking forward to being reunited with it again, but the question was: just where had he left it?

Before he could get very far in his search, or even begin it, he was stopped short by the sight of a familiar figure sitting on the farthest bed from the door.

Ignis.

Ignis’ back was facing him, but Prompto noticed the subtle jitter of his right shoulder. He heard the sound of light scratching. A paper crinkling. Was he writing?

Memories of what had happened earlier that day flashed through Prompto’s mind.

Should he leave?

Yes. Maybe he should. As Ignis had said, just because his directive was to accompany him, he… didn’t… actually have to, all the time? It made little sense to him, but Ignis had been right: nothing bad had happened to him while they were separated.

He turned around, reaching for the doorknob, but the second his fingers brushed against it he heard a voice.

“Prompto? Is that you?” a soft, accented voice called.

He froze, his arms resetting to their default position at his sides.

“...yeah. It’s us,” Prompto replied.

“Would you care to join me for a moment?” Ignis asked. Prompto heard the sound of faint rustling, followed by a tap. Placing whatever it was he was writing in on the nightstand, presumably.

Prompto felt like he shouldn’t be here. And yet, he couldn’t turn away. Ignis had invited him over. Did this mean that he didn’t hate him after all?

“...sure.” Prompto held his hands in front of himself as he made his way over to the bed. Ignis wore the usual; pinstriped dress shirt. Suspenders. Black slacks. Casual.

“Prompto, about earlier---” Ignis began.

“It’s cool. It’s fine,” Prompto replied quickly.

“Please let me finish.”

“...sorry.”

“I would like to apologize. I didn’t mean to brush you off like that. It wasn’t my intention to come across as harsh as I did.”

Prompto fiddled with the end of his scarf. He wanted to reply with an “It’s okay, dude”, but there was something about Ignis’ tone that told him that the man wasn’t quite done with speaking.

“Allow me to explain myself,” Ignis continued, just like Prompto had predicted. He patted the spot on the bed beside him, and Prompto slowly sat down, accepting the invitation.

“In matters regarding Noctis, it’s, as you’ve been told many times, complicated. Our… mission, this journey we are on… it’s a personal journey not only for Noctis, but for… all of us, as well. At times, it can be harrowing to think about. And that was what happened with myself earlier. If someone is unwilling to share information and appears uncomfortable when asked, it’s best to hold your tongue instead of pressing on.”

“...we’re sorry.” Prompto felt a little bad, now. He didn’t mean to upset Ignis. “So… does this mean you’re willing to offer information now?”

Ignis took in a breath. “Perhaps.”

“Okay, then… can… you tell us about your mission?” Prompto asked softly. “Please. We just… we just wanna know… so we don’t mess up by overstepping again. We wanna know if there’s anything we can do to help. Anything at all, even if it’s just… us being quiet all the time, like a statue, or---”

Ignis reached over, his gloved hand delicately brushing against one of Prompto’s. Prompto blinked. He didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, he had to do nothing, as Ignis just let it rest there like it belonged.

“You are very kind, Prompto,” Ignis replied. “However, I’m not sure if there is anything you can do to directly help our mission, except... be a friend to Noctis.”

“Be a friend?”

“Yes. The two of you have gotten along quite well, and… I worry about Noctis. On a daily basis, I find myself constantly worrying about his wellbeing, his physical as well as his mental health. I think that if he had someone outside of our little group to talk to, to have fun with every now and again, it may help lift his spirits immensely. I’ve noticed a difference already. Just doing something as simple as playing King’s Knight with him will help keep his mind from wandering down a dark path, even if only for a little while.”

Prompto smiled at that. “We think we can do that. King’s Knight is pretty sweet.”

Ignis reached into his pocket, producing something that Prompto already knew quite well. “I got you a gift. One of the merchants in the marketplace here was dealing cell phones and managed to get this one connected to a network. I can’t guarantee how well it will work, or for how long, but if you can figure it out, then it’s all yours.”

Prompto stared at it like it was a mystifying tome of power.

“Another gift?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yes.” Ignis was smiling.

“It’s… really okay?”

“Of course, Prompto. Having your own cell phone will be helpful in general. If you were to ever get separated from us, you could use it to contact us, for example.” Ignis held the phone out to him. “Go ahead, give it a try.”

Prompto took it from Ignis, unlocking the screen right away. It was different from both Noctis’ and Ignis’ from what he could tell so far, but it didn’t seem like it would be too difficult to figure out.

“Heh… our own phone,” Prompto said as he tapped away at the screen, quickly browsing through the phone’s settings. “Y’know, this is kinda like that story… what was it called… Pinocchio?”

“Oh? How so, Prompto?” Ignis asked curiously.

“All humans seem to have their own phone, right? So it’s like… us, getting our own phone… means we’re now a ‘real boy’.” Prompto grinned. He knew it was silly, and implied a lot when it came to humans, as well as himself, but---

The sound that filled the room next was like a beautiful song.

Ignis laughed. It wasn’t like the usual low, very brief chuckles under his breath that Prompto had heard all those other times. This one was genuine, from the diaphragm, from the heart. He’d made Ignis laugh. Did the man also have a strange sense of humour, like the kind he’d been programmed with?

“Yes,” Ignis said after a moment, trying to regain his composure, but the smile on his face kept betraying him. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Your cell phone is now your honorary badge of humanity, Prompto. Does this mean that your nose will grow if you tell a lie as well?”

“Hmmm… we dunno. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh? It’s too bad we’ve been programmed to tell the truth at all times. But y’know, that would kinda be a cool ability to have. Weird, but cool. Like, we’d be able to participate in battles with you guys. Just stand there and tell a bunch of lies, and our nose’ll shoot out and stab daemons... in the _face_. No sweat off our back. Well, we don’t sweat, but you get what we mean.”

“Certainly. And I do admit, that ability would be rather helpful to have in battle.” Still smiling. “A long range weapon would prove most useful.”

“So, does that make you the Blue Fairy, then?” Prompto scooted closer to Ignis, their legs just barely grazing one another.

“Heavens, no. I’m not so sure I suit the colour blue, especially a bright shade. Every time I’ve had my colours done I was always told I was a Light Summer, not a Spring or Winter.” Ignis smirked.

Prompto looked up from his new phone, over at the man that embodied his directive. He’d just received another gift. First the winter clothes, and now a phone. He felt that just saying “thank you” wasn’t quite enough in a situation like this. So… what else could he do instead, to show his gratitude?

Clearly, the only other option was…

Prompto tucked his phone into his jacket pocket, turning slightly so he could slide his arms around Ignis in a sudden hug. He’d never gotten to do this sort of thing in the past very often. Only on the odd occasion when one of the aquarium kids asked for a hug, or when Sania would give him a hug if he did something special, like help her out with a task. He.. liked hugs, though. He couldn’t quite describe it, but it gave him a strange… feeling, deep inside. One that simulated happiness in its purest form. “Thanks, Ignis,” he said softly. “We’ll make sure to take good care of it, like we do with our camera.”

Hugging Ignis was… different.

Ignis tensed beneath Prompto’s arms, remaining stiff as the other continued hugging him. “You’re… welcome, Prompto,” he replied. While he didn’t return the hug, his reaction was one Prompto almost preferred instead; he gently placed his hand in Prompto’s hair as he leaned into the embrace.

When the hug ended, Prompto leaned forward, peering at the nightstand, where what looked to be some kind of book, a journal, maybe, sat. “...oh, hey. When we came in earlier, were you writing?” Prompto asked, curious.

Ignis followed Prompto’s gaze. “Ah. Yes, I was. In my spare time, I enjoy writing.”

“Writing?”

“Yes. When I was younger, I used to write short stories to pass the time. My intention was to become a novelist, but in the end my path didn’t quite lead me to that destination. Now, it is merely a hobby. Gladiolus offers his editing services from time to time. His hobby is to read, and mine is to write. I suppose that’s part of why we still get along.”

“Writing,” Prompto repeated again. He thought about it for a moment, then he smiled. “Think maybe we could read one of your stories sometime?”

“Perhaps. Currently I’m not working on any project in particular, but I still make it a point to write at least something every day. My journal there’s purpose is as it sounds; it’s nothing but a journal. One day another story may be born in those pages, but for now it’s a place to gather and organize my thoughts at the end of the day.”

Prompto wiggled his toes in his boots. “Can… we read it? Maybe?”

Ignis chuckled. “Typically, a journal is private, Prompto.”

“So.. we guess that’s a no?”

“Correct.”

“Aw, man.”

What sort of things did Ignis write about? What was his writing style like? If it was anything like how the man spoke, Prompto could only assume that it would be beautifully written, even if it was about the bagel he’d eaten that morning.

At the end of the day, Ignis managed to successfully dodge yet another inquiry about Noctis’ journey.


	7. DISCOVERY

DATA LOG #7: DISCOVERY 

In true modern human fashion, Prompto became glued to his cell phone while they traveled.

King’s Knight was a frequent app. Then he installed more. Soon, he’d figured out how to unlock his phone, hack it, and make it completely customizable. It wasn’t for a few weeks more until he was able to create his own firmware, code and install his own software and learn how to access remote servers… simply because he wanted to. Because he could.

When Ignis found out what he had been doing, the man appeared curious, yet suspicious. Prompto, meanwhile, was nothing but a ball of excitement, eager to show off all the tinkering he’d been doing.

“So, here’s the project we’ve been working on,” Prompto began, sitting beside Ignis at the campfire one night as he pulled out his phone. “It’s still a work in progress, but we’re _so_ close to getting it to work. Okay, see, it’s kinda like… the text app. Only, it taps into different servers? It’s a little hard to explain. But anyway, we’ve been working on accessing the Argentum Cloud server. Turns out, it’s not actually down.”

Ignis’ interest piqued. “What do you mean, Prompto?”

“While we were fiddling around with all this stuff, we found out that the Argentum Aquatic Centre servers aren’t actually _down_ down. They’ve just got a really, really good firewall up. It was automatically refusing any connection that tried to access it, _especially_ those with employee logins, and any trying to connect internally while at the aquarium.”

“And that includes yourself?”

“Bingo.”

“But why?”

“We’re not sure. It could be that when the world went into darkness all those years ago, it really did mess up the servers, our database, located back at head office across the country. It either crashed indefinitely but is still technically ‘running’, or someone hacked in and is protecting it from outside access, for whatever reason.”

“And you believe you will be able to crack this code with this program you’ve made?” Ignis asked.

“Yep. And if we can access the Cloud again, then…”

“....you will be able to contact your brothers, possibly,” Ignis finished for him.

Prompto smiled. “You got it.”

“Prompto, your work is commendable.”

“Heh… aw, it’s nothing,” Prompto rubbed at the back of his neck, a little quirk he’d picked up from Gladiolus. “We’re glad you think so, though.”

“I’m serious,” said Ignis, resting his head on his hand as he watched the other. “Prompto, what you’ve been doing lately is nothing short of incredible. You just keep surprising me every single day. Every time I start to think I’ve seen it all, you open yet another door leading to another possibility. It makes me wonder what else you could be capable of.”

Prompto fidgeted with his scarf. “Aw. You’re gonna make us blush,” he murmured.

“Unfortunately, that is one thing you really are incapable of.”

“Y-yeah, we know. But that’s how you’re making us feel right now.” Prompto smiled shyly, sinking in his chair as he pulled his scarf up a little to cover the lower half of his face.

Ignis just stared at him.

Prompto was starting to say some… strange things lately. He was aware of it, too. Bashfulness, along with other human emotions, was something he was starting to get really good at imitating. He thought that it was the fault of his A.I. program; slowly adapting to his new environment, new stimuli, such being his human companions. He was incorporating more and more human-specific phrases into his speech. Human mannerisms. Even his posture, his hand gestures, were mirrored from his friends. Unfortunately, that led to some slip-ups in speech, too, like that time when he mimicked Gladiolus’ frustrated choice words when the man had accidentally hammered his thumb while setting up the tent.

The one day he imitated Ignis’ accent, though, didn’t quite end so well for him. He knew not to do _that_ again.

“Thank you for showing me your project, Prompto. I wish you the best of luck and hope you make a breakthrough soon. Now, then… I do believe it is time for me to head to bed. Will you be up for a while longer?” Ignis asked as he slowly got to his feet.

Prompto even pretended to be on a ‘sleeping’ schedule, just like the others.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Probably. We’ll let you know if we see or hear anything weird out here. Have a good sleep, okay?” he said, smiling at Ignis.

Ignis smiled back.

Ignis smiled at him a lot lately.

“I will see you in the morning, Prompto.” And with that, Ignis stepped around the chairs circling the campfire and headed for the tent.

Prompto watched as Ignis safely disappeared into the nearby tent before he reached into his pocket. He fished out the charge cable for his phone, plugging it into his wrist. If there was one thing he found annoying about phones, it was that they never held a charge for very long. Thankfully, literally being a power source had its advantages. He now handled the burden of charging phones, taking over so Noctis didn’t have to expel any of his magical energy when he didn’t need to.

_All right. Let’s do this._

≈

Prompto didn’t go to bed that night.

At approximately 4:37AM, afters hour straight of non-stop work, Prompto successfully accessed the Argentum Cloud server.

He couldn’t believe it. He stared at his phone screen, at the blue prompt input program he’d designed, and wanted to scream. He wanted to dance. He wanted to do all sorts things to express his intense simulated joy, but he didn’t want to risk waking up his companions. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. Well, as shut as it could be when he was constantly grinning wide from ear to ear in excitement.

How long had he been waiting for this moment?

Ten years.

It had been ten years since he’d last had access to the server.

Did it actually work?

He sat back. _Processing. Processing._ Yes, yes it had worked. He was connected. He was in. He had access, protected by an encryption program he’d coded. This was, without a doubt, the Argentum Cloud server. The screen was different from what he would see in his head, obviously, but the biggest difference was that it was touch screen-based. He had to type out his commands, his speech, instead of just… thinking it. But it was fine. He was a pro at typing with his fingers at this point, anyway, so what did it matter?

So. He was in. At last. But… what now?

Nothing had changed. There was nothing new on the screen; it remained the same, just the way it was since he’d successfully logged in.

Was he alone?

No… he didn’t want to admit the possibility. What was likely the reality.

After all this work… had it been for nothing? Were his brothers locked out, as well? Or worse… were they not in service anymore?

Prompto didn’t want to think about it.

‘Hello?’ he typed.

No response.

‘Is anyone there?’

Nothing.

Prompto checked the wire that was connected to his wrist from his phone. Nope, everything was still connected as it should be. His connection was stable, strong. There shouldn’t be any problems on his end.

‘This is One. Is someone there? Anyone? Please, say something. Let us know you’re there.’

Prompto’s grin began to fade the longer his messages remained unanswered. He began to look distressed as the minutes slowly ticked away to an hour. Had it really been too good to be true after all? Had he gotten his hopes up for nothing?

Then, just when he was about to give up, disconnect and probably throw his phone into a nearby bush out of frustration, a message appeared.

‘ _One?_ ’

If Prompto had a heart, it would have stopped.

He jumped to his feet, his eyes wide as he frantically typed out his response. Praise the Six, there was a reply. Someone was there. _One of his brothers_ was there. He made an odd sound, one akin to an unrestrained squeak of excitement as he circled around the near-dead campfire, dancing with glowing embers that still sparked now and again.

‘Yes! Yes, this is One! Who are you? Who are we speaking to?’

‘ _Seven._ ’

Seven.

Prompto knew Seven very well.  

'Seven! We’ve missed you so much. We’ve missed all of you so much. We can’t believe this actually worked. Oh. Oh, wow. Sorry. We’re just so excited. Seven! How are you?'

‘ _Your font looks weird._ ’

Seven’s responses came instantly, the second after Prompto hit ‘send’ on his app each time. He wished he could be just as speedy again, but until he was able to figure out how to move the app inside his head, if it was even possible, then speedy fingers it had to be.

‘Sorry. We’re connected using a cell phone, not internally.’

‘ _Oh. That makes sense. One… it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Here we thought that this server was empty and would be forever._ ’

‘How long have you been connected?’

‘ _Six years, four days and 15 hours._ ’

‘You’ve been alone this whole time?’

‘ _Yes._ ’

‘Where are you? Do you know?’

‘ _No, it's really dark. We can't see anything. We can't move, either. But we’re safe. We’re connected to the server, and we can communicate, so that must mean we’re safe, right?_ ’

‘Wait… if you're active, then maybe that means Quik, er, Thirteen, might be, too. Is he there with you?’

‘ _No. We don't know where he is._ ’

‘But you guys’re Quik and Silver, right? The only uniquely named units. The ‘Twins’? You were both working at the same aquarium. If you’re active, then he’s gotta be somewhere close too. Right?’

‘ _We don’t know. We can't remember what happened before we were deactivated. Our data logs were corrupted. Thirteen is MIA, as far as we know. We haven’t heard from him at all._ ’

‘What have you been doing this whole time? You’ve been connected for six years, right?’

‘ _Nothing. And yes._ ’

‘What do you mean, ‘nothing’?’

‘ _We aren’t functional._ ’

‘Can you elaborate, please?’

‘ _We already told you. We can’t see. We can’t move. We are non-functioning. Our task scheduling program has been disabled. This is the only server we have been able to connect to. We are alone. We don’t know where the others are. No one else has connected to the server in the six years we’ve been active._ ’

Prompto sat back down in his chair at last, frowning. Seven… He’d been active for six years, and yet… Just where was he? What had he been through since the darkness came? Since the system blackout?

‘We’re sorry to hear that, Seven. You must have been lonely until we came around, huh?’

 _‘We don’t comprehend ‘loneliness’, One._ ’

Right. Of course he didn’t.

‘But you comprehend the definition, right?’

‘ _Yes._ ’

‘Then shouldn’t you know what it’s like? Does the definition apply to you during those six years?’

‘ _No. If we were given orders from the administrator to simulate a person suffering with loneliness, then we would do so. But we cannot comprehend what it’s really like. We don’t have emotions. You should know this. One, are you okay? You are speaking strangely._ ’

Prompto felt really uncomfortable, all of a sudden.

‘Sorry, Seven. We… didn’t mean to confuse you.’

‘ _It’s okay._ ’

'Oh, hey. Do… you want us to call you Silver?'

‘ _No. Seven is fine. Do you want us to call you One?_ ’

One.

Just as Seven was the number seven, Prompto was one. That was what his brothers used to call him. Everyone was ‘Prompto Argentum’, except for Seven and Thirteen, later, when the circumstances changed at their aquariums. But when they would converse and share data via the Cloud, they referred to one another by their production number.

One… Being called that just… didn’t feel quite right anymore.

‘No. Actually, if you wouldn’t mind just calling us… Prompto, we’d be happy.’

‘ _It might get confusing. We are all ‘Prompto’, remember?_ ’

‘Well, yeah, but right now it’s just the two of us. Don’t worry about that, Seven. If someone else joins the server, then we can go back to calling us ‘One’. Sound good?’

‘ _Yes._ ’

'We’re gonna work on seeing if we can track down your location, Seven. In the meantime… we’ll stay connected to the server and keep you company. We can chat, all the time. How does that sound?'

‘ _We’d like that._ ’

Prompto lost track of the time as he chatted with his brother. He told him everything. What happened since he’d lost connection with the server ten years ago. How he’d spent five years in hiding. What he’d done for the five years that followed. When his system crashed. His fateful encounter with Ignis. How he’d overidden his directive. Everything he knew about his companions. Seven was just as curious as Prompto, asking questions now and again as he filed away everything Prompto told him in his own internal memory.

It was around the time that Prompto started going on and on about Ignis when a coincidental voice piped up, startling him and seemingly breaking the momentary spell he’d been under.

“Prompto… you never did go to bed, did you?” came Ignis’ voice. He sounded tired, confirmed by the soft yawn that followed. Just what time _was_ it anyway…?

Oh. Oops. It was 6:00A.M. Prompto had been working on his phone and chatting with Seven all night. He hadn’t kept an eye on the time, feeling it was irrelevant to, anyway, even when he knew that the fact that he didn’t need to sleep bothered all his companions, deep down.

“Heh… nope. Sorry. We got carried away, but guess what?” Prompto jumped to his feet, hurrying over to the groggy man’s side as he grabbed at his hand. Ignis tried to protest, but Prompto made no attempt to stop as he practically dragged him over to the chairs and forced him to sit down, sitting next to him on the adjacent chair. “Ignis, we figured it out! We connected to the Argentum Cloud server! Can you believe it? Oh, man,” he grinned, still firmly grasping Ignis’ hand. “We’ve been talking to one of our brothers all night. Morning. Whatever. Seven.”

“Seven?” Ignis asked. The poor man looked more tired than usual; his eyes decorated with bags beneath them, obscured by the lenses of his glasses; his hair messy crumpled in patches and laid flat in others. Prompto knew he was keeping him from his very important morning cup of instant Ebony, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, right, did we forget to tell you? All of us, our brothers, we refer to one another by our production numbers. Since we’re all technically Prompto, it just makes it easier. The administrator called us by our numbers, too. Makes sense, right?” Prompto explained cheerily.

“So, that would make you number…” Ignis trailed.

“One,” Prompto finished.

“Ah. So you’re One. If you’re ‘one’, then that would make you the first model they ever produced?” Ignis asked.

“Yep.”

“Interesting.” Ignis leaned back in his chair. He’d just woken up a few moments ago, but already he seemed to be deep in thought. “Do you know where Seven is?”

“No, and he’s not sure either. There’s a chance he could be in storage somewhere. He says he can’t see or move. Right now, it’s a mystery, but now that we’re connected to the same server, we might be able to track him down via his IP address. No guarantees, but we’re gonna do our best. That’s our next project.” Prompto smiled proudly.

Ignis couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “I see. This is very exciting, Prompto. I’m glad you were able to make a breakthrough at last. However, I’d like to remind you to be careful. I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but at the same time… poking around in servers and the like… I just want to recommend that you exercise more caution than normal.”

Prompto nodded. “Don’t worry, Ignis. We’ve got our tracks covered. Literally. No one should be able to track us down. Our connection is masked. We’re basically anonymous.”

“I trust your skills and judgment, Prompto. But nonetheless, please be safe.”

“We will.”

Their hands were still linked together. Ignis had made no effort to pull away; his fingers, a little longer than Prompto’s, delicately twined between his own. It was a comforting gesture, one Prompto had grown quite fond of… when Ignis allowed it. He’d gotten away with holding his hand a lot as of late, but no instance had lasted for very long. So for Ignis to still allow it right now... he must have been really tired.

Ignis really, really needed that Ebony.

“Hey, sit tight for a sec, okay?” Prompto chirped, sliding his hand away from Ignis’ so he could get to his feet. He plucked the small blanket that sat folded on the chair beside him and draped it over Ignis’ lap, then approached the small food prep table not far from him. He’d learned his way around the makeshift kitchen as of late, growing antsy from having to sit still and just watch as Ignis worked hard at making meals for the others. One thing in particular he’d wanted to master was how to make the perfect cup of instant Ebony.

“Prompto, what are you doing?” Ignis asked curiously, adjusting the blanket. A small smile perked on his lips.

“You’ll see,” Prompto replied. He pulled out Ignis’ favourite mug and retrieved the container of instant Ebony, setting both of them down on the table. Then, he picked up the kettle, filled it with water from the cooler and headed over to the campfire. He knelt beside what remained of the fire before he began to blow on the embers, tossing another piece of wood on top of it.

Ignis watched as Prompto worked, and it didn’t take long for him to clue in. “You don’t have to, Prompto,” he said softly.

“There’s a difference between having to do something and _wanting_ to do something, right? You told us that once.” Prompto glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him again. “So, we wanna make you the best darn cup of Ebony you’ve ever had. Let us take care of you for once. Sound good?”

It was a moment before Ignis replied. “...If you insist,” he said at last. He pulled at the blanket that was now tucked around his lower half before he readjusted it again.

“We do insist.”

Prompto waited patiently for the kettle to boil, then poured the water into the mug. He made sure to follow the directions on the Ebony container as closely as he could, stirring it exactly five times before he went back to Ignis’ side.

“For you, good sir,” Prompto said playfully, holding the mug out to him.

“Why, thank you,” Ignis replied. He took the mug, raised it to his nose for a brief sniff, then took a slow sip.

How did it not burn his tongue? That was a thing for humans and hot drinks, right? Ignis really _was_ a coffee pro.

“And?” Prompto urged, leaning in as he waited for Ignis’ review.

Ignis took one more sip before giving his verdict. His eyelashes fluttered behind the lenses of his glasses, processing. “It seems you’ve succeeded in providing me with the ‘best darn cup of Ebony I’ve ever had’. Well done,” he said pleasantly.

“Yessssssss!” Prompto hissed, grinning as he fist pumped in the air. He dropped back into the chair beside Ignis, clapping his hands together. “Consider instant Ebony defeated by yours truly.”

“Yours truly,” Ignis repeated. “Prompto, I think that’s the closest you’ve ever come to saying ‘I’.”

“Heh… you’re right. Look at us, cheating the system a bit. Told you we were a super hacker,” he winked before he pulled his phone back out of his pocket. He tapped away at the screen, telling Seven everything that had just happened.

Ignis continued watching Prompto as he enjoyed his coffee. “So, are you and Seven connected to one another at all times now?”

“That’s right,” Prompto replied. “We haven’t been able to figure out how to stay connected without the cable, though.” He lifted his hand, showing the phone cable that was plugged into his wrist. “Work in progress.”

“Do you receive a notification when he sends you a message, much like a standard text?” Ignis asked.

“Also a work in progress. Now that we managed to connect to the server, we’re gonna be able to do all kinds of stuff. It’ll just take some time.”

“And when you’ve developed the ability to track his location, will it also apply to your other brothers? Or just Seven?”

“Probably just Seven. It’s… hard to say. We have a direct link to Seven now. Everyone else? Not so much. If they end up joining the server, too, then we can use the same methods to track them down. Again, it’s another work in progress. We...really hope we can find all of our brothers eventually.” Prompto tapped his boot against the ground.

“I hope so as well,” Ignis said softly. He closed his eyes as he held his mug in both hands, enjoying the heat. Prompto wished he knew what it felt like.

Ignis looked... peaceful. Comfortable. It simulated a feeling inside Prompto that he didn’t quite understand. It was like the feeling his brothers had given him, but different, somehow.

Speaking of brothers… Prompto decided to ask Ignis something he was sure that he hadn’t before. He was still desperate to learn more about Ignis, even if all he’d get was a tidbit here and there instead of a lot of information all at once.

“Do… you have any brothers, Ignis? Or sisters, maybe?” Prompto asked.

Ignis took a slow breath, lowering his mug. “I’m afraid not, Prompto,” he replied gently.

“Ah, so you’re a single child, huh? We read that single children are usually spoiled.” Prompto smiled wide.

“Is that so?” Ignis said with a chuckle. “I can’t speak for myself, but I’m sure if you asked Gladio he would be able to give you an opinion on the subject.”

“Can’t trust much that Gladio says. He says you’re a jerk, and even though we know he’s joking it still bugs us a little, y’know? ‘Cuz we know you’re anything but a jerk.” Prompto paused. “So.. you’re a single child. But you’ve got parents. Right?”

“Not for a very long time,” Ignis replied easily.

“Oh. We don’t really get it, but you had to have come from somewhere, right? Did they raise you?” Prompto asked.

“No. My uncle did, but once I got to a certain age, he was not present. We have not spoken in almost fifteen years, now,” Ignis answered.

Prompto frowned. “So...you’ve got no family at all, then?”

“Aside from my ties with Gladio and Noct’s families, I’m afraid I’m all alone in that aspect.”

“But you’re not alone anymore, right? You’ve got Noctis, and Gladio, and… now, you’ve got us, too.” Prompto fiddled with his scarf. “Do you ever feel lonely?”

It was a long moment before Ignis spoke again. “Sometimes,” he admitted. He stared into his mug as he shifted in his seat, For a moment it looked like he was about to rise to his feet, but ultimately decided against it, remaining where he was.

Before Prompto could continue, there came the sound of the tent being unzipped behind them, then heavy footsteps followed by a gruff voice.

“Listen, I know it’s been awhile since we last talked. But to be fair, it was you who told me not to call you again.”

Both Prompto and Ignis glanced over their shoulders at the same time.

Gladiolus. On his cell phone. That never happened. In fact, Prompto couldn’t even remember the last time he’d even seen the man so much as touch a phone. He’d had his doubts that the man even had a cell phone - after all, he was ‘weird about technology’, according to Noctis.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never bothered trying to contact me, either,” Gladiolus continued. Realizing he had an audience, he waved his hand awkwardly at them and turned away, stepping over to the other side of the tent. “Yeah. I know. I _know_. I’ve been kinda busy too. You know that. More than busy. It’s been nuts. I thought you understood that.”

Prompto and Ignis looked at one another. Prompto shrugged, and Ignis quirked his eyebrow as he took another slow sip of his coffee. Both of them were intently listening in on Gladiolus’ conversation, even though morals told them that they really shouldn’t. But how could they not?

“Babe, I---”

The voice on the other end of the line became louder, an explosion of volume, but it was still too muffled for Prompto to make out any specific words.

Gladiolus sighed heavily. “Okay. Then what should I call you then?” He winced at the response, blowing a slow breath. “Listen. I just wanna talk. Where the heck are you right now, anyway?”

He made a ‘tch’ sound. “That’s really far. I’m still in Duscae.” A pause. “Hey. That’s not fair. You _know_ I’ve got a duty. It’s kind of important. I can’t just abandon it. Can’t exactly just drop everything and run to the other side of the continent at a whim. As much as I wish I could sometimes.”

His expression softened. “I miss you too.”

Both of Ignis’ eyebrows rose at that one. Prompto bit his bottom lip, curious about what was going on.

“Listen. If we end up passing by, I’ll try and stop in, okay? I wanna work things out. I wanna see you. It’s been hard for me too, you know.”

Gladiolus paused, listening, then snorted. “Damn. You’re harsh sometimes.”

The conversation continued, though sparsely from Gladiolus’ side.

“Uh huh.”

“When this is all said and done---”

“Uh huh. Yeah.”

“Babe…”

His brow furrowed again. “So that’s it, huh?”

Ignis looked over at Prompto, and both of them smiled awkwardly at each other, feeling... well, awkward.

“So I shouldn’t bother stopping by at all?” Pause. “You’re telling me two different things. I’m not a mind reader. Give me _something_.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“Right.”

“If I see you, I see you. If not, then I guess that’s that after all.”

“Right. Okay. _Okay_. Bye for now, I guess.”

Gladiolus heaved another harsh sigh. He tucked his phone into his pocket and patted his legs as he glanced around. “I know you guys are listening in over there,” he muttered.

Prompto sat up straight. “Nope! No listening going over here!” he replied quickly.

“Sounds like trouble in paradise to me,” Ignis said smoothly. “Gladio, I had no idea you had a significant other.”

Prompto’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?! You don’t?” he yelped. “But you guys are best friends, right? How did you not know? Even _we_ knew. Gladio told us back at the settlement, dude. He’s got a girlfriend.” He stared at the tall man. “Right, Gladio?”

Gladiolus smiled sadly. “Truth is… not really. At least, not right now.”

“Gladio, as your alleged best friend, I am shocked and hurt that you didn’t inform me,” Ignis said in his usual tone, but Prompto knew him well enough now to know that it was filled to the brim with sarcasm.

“Shut up, Ignis,” Gladiolus grumbled, making his way around the chairs so he could take a seat in one across from them.

“So you… don’t have a girlfriend anymore?” Prompto asked, frowning. “Did you get in a fight?”

“We’ve kinda been arguing for months,” Gladiolus explained. “Turns out, long distance relationships are tough. I was usually busy when I was off racing and stuff, but I was able to visit her at least once a week back then. But with all the training and traveling and shit, we haven’t seen each other in just a little over a year now. It sucks. But I figured it would go this way.”

“Where is she now?” Ignis asked.

“She’s over by the Vesperpool. Long ways off. There’s a big settlement there. She’d been traveling and helping out at some of the smaller refugee camps this last while and ended up there. Think that one’s gonna be her permanent home, from the sounds of it.”

“I’ve heard they’ve made quite the community over there,” Ignis remarked. “It’s very likely that our journey will have us passing by. If time permits, we can even make it a rest stop, stay there for a short while.”

“Heh… maybe.” Gladiolus crossed his arms over his chest as he closed his eyes. “Really don’t want to cause any trouble for her, though, if she doesn’t want me around.”

“Of course she would want you around,” Ignis said, his gaze fixed on Gladiolus. “You do want to see her, right? Unless you’ve done something unforgivable, Gladio, then perhaps some one-on-one time will help mend your relationship. A physical presence makes all the difference in the world.”

“No, it’s not something unforgivable, but it’s definitely my fault. We’ve talked it out about a dozen times and each time it comes to the same end. She always tells me that I’m impossible to deal with when I’m mad, and---”

“She has a point,” Ignis chimed in.

“Iggy, don’t make me come over there,” Gladiolus shot back. “But thing is, she’s the same way. When she’s mad, she shuts down. Can’t talk. Maybe that makes us a bad match after all. Too similar.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” Ignis asked. “It sounds like what you have together is serious. And you’re ready to throw it all away because of communication issues?”

“Who’re you now, my counsellor?” Gladiolus muttered.

“I could be, if you like.”

“No thanks.”

“I insist.”

“Hell no.”

“We think you should at least visit her,” Prompto spoke up. “Just once. When we chatted together back at the settlement… well… we could tell how much you care for her. Talking about your feelings and stuff will fix things up, no sweat, right?”

Gladiolus snorted in amusement. ”Wasn’t aware R2-D2 had counselling training, too.”

“Our name’s Prompto,” Prompto corrected automatically. “And dude, we totally could. Like, we could sit here and download entire books on relationship help and read them out to you, if you want.”

Gladiolus groaned. “No thanks. Besides, a Sania problem can’t be solved with a book. More like an entire library, or maybe if I gave her a paddle to whack my ass with. She’d probably like that.”

For a second, what Gladiolus said nearly passed over Prompto’s head, but then, he felt a spark.

Wait.

What did Gladiolus just say?

“...say that again?” Prompto leaned forward as he stared at Gladiolus intently.

“Huh? Say what again?” Gladiolus replied, puzzled. “What, you suddenly interested in paddles? Did Iggy give you weird ideas again?”

“No! No, not the part about the paddle. We don’t care about paddles. What’s… your girlfriend’s name again?” Prompto urged.

Gladiolus gave him a strange look. “Sania?” he offered.

_Sania._

Prompto’s eyes widened. He was no longer fiddling with his scarf; he was full on tugging on it, and if he was capable of breathing, he would have stopped by now.

No... it… it couldn’t be.

Sania was just a name. A common one, at that. It was purely coincidental. For all he knew, it was also spelled differently. But as Prompto sat there, accessing his memory logs of all the conversations that had taken place since he’d met his new friends, he began piecing together the puzzle and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe...

Sania. Prompto knew lots about Sania. Sania was beautiful. Smart. She loved nature and the outdoors. Everything Gladiolus had told him previously about his girlfriend matched her description. Prompto recalled the stories she used to tell him, where she would go and get lost in the woods for hours, usually returning home with mud all the way up to her hips from wading through murky swamp waters, searching for frogs.

Could Sania have met Gladiolus on one of those trips?

No. It was just a coincidence.

A coincidence that Prompto just couldn’t let go of.

Before he could even process that he was moving, there Prompto was on his feet, rushing around the chairs and disappearing into the tent. His friends called after him, confused by the brisk exit and shrugged when they received no response. When Prompto returned, he had his camera and his memory card case in his hands, sifting through the dated sections to try and find a recent card, a specific card, muttering to himself under his breath.

“Hey R2, you doing okay?” Gladiolus asked cautiously.

Prompto ignored him, hissing a “Yessss” when he found the card he’d been looking for. He whipped it out and swapped cards in his camera in the blink of an eye, turning on the power. Then, he flipped through the photo reel in a flash, stopping on one photo in particular.

He froze. He actually couldn’t move for a second, even though he wanted to. Uh oh. Another crash? There was a crash coming on, right? Probably, but he pushed on regardless. He just had to know.

“This… isn’t Sania… is it?” Prompto asked slowly. He held his camera screen up and tilted it so Gladiolus could see, and Ignis leaned forward slightly so he could have a look as well.

Framed in the middle of the photo was Prompto’s best friend, Sania, standing in the front main entrance lobby of the Argentum Aquatic Centre. The photo, taken about thirteen years ago, captured the very essence of Sania. Her face was hidden by her large, round glasses frames as always, the rim of her bucket hat hanging above like an awning. Her expression radiated joy and triumph as she held two blue frogs up in the air, one in each hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her big hair was tamed into two small pigtails on either side of her head. The flap of the messenger bag strapped across her chest was wide open, having neglected to close it properly in her excitement.

Prompto remembered that day like it was yesterday; she had been so excited to finally receive the other blue frog she’d imported from one of the other aquariums. Now with a male and female of the same species, she had been able to start her next breeding project.

Gladiolus stared at the camera, and at first he didn’t say a word. Confusion crossed his features, his brow furrowing. Then, he slowly got to his feet and approached Prompto, carefully taking the camera from him so he could get a better look.

“Heh…” Gladiolus’ expression softened, a smile blooming in its place as he stared at the screen. “Holy shit. Well, I’ll be.”

“Ah, that’s right… the friend you mentioned when we first met. Her name was Sania, was it not?” Ignis said thoughtfully. He was smiling, too.

“Yeah,” Prompto replied as he watched Gladiolus, frozen in place. He was readying himself to catch his camera in the event Gladiolus dropped it, even if it was unlikely. Seeing Sania’s photo had made him feel… strange, electrical currents sparking through him every now and again. Any minute now… it was coming. A glitch. A crash. Something. It was coming, and he knew it couldn’t be avoided.

“Yep. That’s Sania, all right. Shit, that was a long time ago. Must have been around the time we’d first met… still just as beautiful and cute now as she was back then.” Gladiolus returned to his chair, camera still in hand.

...Prompto had been right.

He couldn’t believe it. She really was the same Sania. Gladiolus… was dating Sania. Gladiolus loved Sania. His new friend was linked to his best friend. It was incredible. It was exciting. It was like all the stars in the sky aligned perfectly, like the powers that be came together to give him this gift. Prompto wanted to ask Gladiolus so many questions, but each time he readied himself to, nothing came. He was overloaded.

And there, at last, was the glitch.

Prompto’s head jerked as he attempted to speak, but all that came out was a string of digitized consonants. His eyes widened and he stopped moving, trying desperately to manage all of the strange error messages popping up in his mind. More and more of his memory archives were becoming corrupted. Most of them were able to be corrected with his own internal diagnostics program, but some were now inaccessible. When he accessed his memory logs of Sania just now, it seemed to activate the errors. But why? He didn’t understand. Was there a link between what just happened and the system crashes?

“Uh, is he okay?” Gladiolus asked in concern.

“This happens sometimes,” Ignis explained simply. “He’s been having some internal… conflicts, as of late. They’ve become more frequent in the last week or so. I can only assume that seeing the photograph of Sania has triggered yet another. He should be fine, given a few moments.”

Prompto held his head in his hands. Slowly, the popups began to cease. Crisis averted. For now. He managed to stabilize his system. When he glanced back up, he felt himself shrink in embarrassment when he saw his friends staring at him.

“We’re okay!” Prompto squeaked, scrambling to try and recover from how awkward he’d just made the situation. “Sorry. It’s just that, uh, well… we started thinking about Sania, and…” He shook his head, finding it unnecessary to explain. “Gladio, Sania’s really your girlfriend?”

Gladiolus nodded. “Yeah. What a coincidence, huh? We’ve been together for awhile. I knew she’d worked at an aquarium in the past, but I didn’t really put two and two together.” Gladiolus exhaled. “It’s been what… ten years since you last saw her, right?”

“Yeah.” Prompto frowned. Before, he hadn’t really had any concept of time outside of his task scheduling program, but now, he was starting to comprehend just how long ago that was. So much could change in ten years.

“Shit. That’s a long time.” Gladiolus rubbed at his chin.

“Gladio, what is she doing now?” Prompto asked.

Gladiolus shifted in his seat, taking a moment to think about it. “For awhile she was helping out evacuees, getting them back on their feet and making sure they had everything they needed before being sent off to the settlements. Back then, there was nothing. Everything had to be rebuilt. Now, we’ve got mini cities going on again. It’s incredible.

“Anyway. After a bit Sania went back to her old tricks again, spending way too much time out in the woods even though stepping outside haven-protected areas is dangerous. She’s stubborn. I told her over and over that she better knock it off, but… all her hard and dangerous work eventually paid off. For one, she didn't get killed. Second, she ended up becoming a biology major. Guess her official title is ‘Professor’ now. She never lets me forget it.”

Prompto smiled. “Professor,” he repeated. “She’d always talked about wanting to make something of herself, and it looks like she finally did it. We’re… so glad to hear that.”

“Some of the research papers she’s written are just incredible. Real professional-sounding stuff. Since the darkness hit, she’d set her sights on studying daemons instead of just the regular ol’ wildlife, and her hard work paid off. Her work’s considered to be the go-to for reference. Hunters are glad to have the info. Me, I’m personally not a fan of her putting herself into so much danger, being close to daemons and all, but somehow she’s managed to hold onto her life and help people in the process.”

“Sania Yeagre, right?” Ignis recalled. “I’ve heard about her. She’s quite well known. Her name kept coming up whenever I did some research of my own.”

Now Prompto wished he had thought to Moogle his friend’s name sooner.

“We miss her. We… want to see her again.” Prompto looked over at Ignis, as if he were silently asking him for permission.

Ignis smiled. “Of course we will stop by for a visit along the way. We couldn’t possibly pass up an opportunity to see someone so important to two of our companions, now can we?” He looked over at Gladiolus.

Gladiolus groaned, moving his hand over his face. “Guess I’ve got no choice now, huh?” he mumbled.

“Are you positive you don’t want to hire me for relationship consult?” Ignis asked again. “It’s going to be a long trek to Sania. We can cover a lot of metaphorical ground along the way, if we start now.”

“Can it, Iggy.”

Prompto had so much to tell Seven now.

≈

That night, Ignis opted to stay in the tent while everyone else ate dinner outside, citing the reason as a headache. While it may have been true, Prompto knew that the actual reason for his absence was because he was writing in his journal -- that journal that he so desperately wanted to peek in, but thus far had managed to resist, keep his word that he wouldn’t. Prompto was pretty proud of himself, actually.

In the meantime, Prompto spent some time with Gladiolus and Noctis by the campfire, sending messages constantly to Seven when he became uninvolved with the conversation. Sania. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was going to see his friend soon. He wasn’t sure when it would happen, but he didn’t care how long it took. Now he had yet another thing to look forward to. How was she doing? Was she happy? Would she even remember who he was? Ten years was a long time… Was he as important to her as she was to him?

He became lost in his own thoughts after a while. Though he was enjoying Gladiolus and Noctis’ company, he couldn’t help but be painfully aware of the fact that Ignis wasn’t there with them. He continually glanced over at his chair, only to find it empty. Soon, Prompto found that he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward the tent, as if it had its own gravitational field. Ignis would often go off and spend some time on his own, so it wasn’t like it was anything out of the ordinary. But even so… he missed him.

“Gonna call it a night, we think,” Prompto announced as he got to his feet. “See ya guys later, okay?”  

Gladiolus and Noctis waved to him and continued on with their conversation. Now he was officially excused from the situation. Perfect.

He walked over to the tent. The front flap had been zipped shut, signifying the fact that Ignis had wanted some privacy. He could see the faint glow of the lantern Ignis had lit glimmering through the thin walls of the tent, the hint of Ignis’ silhouette dancing on the fabric.

“Ignis?” he called. He raised his hand to knock, but then lowered it when he remembered… right. Tent door. Can’t really knock on that. He smiled at himself.

“Come in,” Ignis replied after a moment.

Zip went the tent flap, and in stepped Prompto.

Ignis was sitting at the far side of the tent, sleeping bag beneath him and his journal in his lap, just as Prompto had predicted. Usually, the man insisted on sleeping near the entrance, but tonight he had arranged the sleeping order a bit differently. Ignis, against the far wall. Gladiolus, right by the entrance. Noctis, in the middle, and… himself, right beside Ignis.

“Good evening, Prompto,” Ignis greeted. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. Everything's fine,” Prompto replied. He bit his lip. Well, he hadn't exactly planned this far. What was he supposed to say? He was intruding on Ignis’ quiet time, and he had no reason for it. Should he leave?

“Come, join me,” Ignis suggested, patting the sleeping bag beside him before setting his journal down beside him, near the lantern.

“Okay.” Prompto removed his boots by the door before he made his way over to Ignis, carefully stepping around the other sleeping bags so he didn't slip on them by accident. He settled down on his own bag and looked up at Ignis innocently.

“Sorry. We don't mean to bother you or anything. It's just…” Prompto began, drawing a blank as he tried to find an explanation for his presence. What could he say? That he was bothering him because he missed him?

“...we miss you,” Prompto blurted. Well, it was true, so why lie? Quickly, he scrambled to add, “Sorry, we know that just because our directive is to accompany you doesn't mean we have to follow you around all the time and stuff, it's just---”

Ignis’ stiff expression warmed somewhat.

“It's quite all right, Prompto. The truth is, I found myself missing you a bit as well,” Ignis admitted. Ignis looked tired, but there was something inviting about his posture that made Prompto feel a little less guilty for disturbing him now.

Prompto felt another spark, similar to the one he'd felt earlier when he saw Sania’s photo. Oh, no. Another glitch?

No. False alarm. Prompto smiled as he lowered his eyes. “Good to know.”

“You must have a lot on your mind tonight.” Ignis shifted as he drew his sleeping bag up over his lap, getting more comfortable.

“A little, yeah. Did you really not know that Gladiolus has a girlfriend?” Prompto asked. He mimicked Ignis, sliding his legs inside of his own sleeping bag.

“I didn't know,” Ignis replied. “Odd, as it sounds like it is quite serious and has spanned over many years, now. But then again, I suppose it makes sense. Gladiolus is actually a very private person. He doesn't like it when people poke around in his personal life. I know this from firsthand experience.”

“Yeah, he kinda seems that way to us, too. It's just… a bit of a shock, y’know? Not the girlfriend thing as a whole, but because he knows Sania.”

“It may seem like a coincidence, but now that I think about it, Gladio used to do a lot of his camping not far from your aquarium. If Sania lived in Insomnia as well, then it is very likely that they could have crossed paths at some point.”

“Huh. Yeah. You're right. Is… Insomnia far from Crestholm?” Prompto asked curiously.

“It's in proximity, but it's not exactly walking distance. By car, it's about maybe two hours away,” Ignis recalled thoughtfully. He removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose, holding them up to the lantern’s light to inspect them for smudges.

“Two hours…” Prompto looked up at the ceiling of the tent. “This whole time, we were close to you guys and we had no idea.”

Ignis smiled at that. “Perhaps our meeting was meant to be, regardless of circumstances.” He rubbed the lenses of the glasses against the bottom of his dress shirt before returning them to their rightful place.

“We think so, too,” Prompto replied. He reached over to Ignis, his hand slow and steady as he held it out to him. He didn’t expect any sort of reciprocation, but to his surprise, it was Ignis who took his hand first.

They sat there together, fingers twined for a moment, no further words spoken. For a second, Prompto swore he could feel a twinge of heat, some kind of sensation on his palms, but he knew it was his programming playing tricks on him.

“Are you excited to see Sania?” Ignis asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t move his hand away.

Prompto nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “But we’re also… well… we don’t know the right word for it. It’s hard to really pinpoint what exactly it is.”

“Anxious?” Ignis suggested.

“Anxious.” Prompto paused, recalling what he had learned about the different types of human emotions. “Is that what that feeling is? We wonder why the heck we were programmed to simulate that emotion.”

“Just one of the many features you possess that makes you more human, I suppose,” Ignis said quietly. His fingers squeezed Prompto’s hand a little, and Prompto noted the increase in pressure. He wondered what it meant.

That word rang in Prompto’s mind.

_Human._

Prompto felt himself smile.

“Are we human, Ignis?” Prompto asked.

The question, he knew, was absurd. Of course he wasn’t human. He was mechanical. His personality was programmed; everything he said and did ran off of a predetermined algorithm. He already knew what Ignis’ reply would likely be, and yet, Ignis surprised him yet again, giving him a different response and with little hesitation.

“To me, you are,” Ignis began. “You are here, conversing with me, sharing this moment, as you are. You have your own thoughts and you make your own decisions. You have the ability to forge your own relationships, bonding with others of your own accord. You show compassion… kindness… curiosity. A passion for learning, a drive for knowledge. It doesn’t matter if you breathe or have a heartbeat, or if you radiate warmth. To me, all of those things doesn’t make one human. To _live_ , as you are… you couldn’t possibly be more so.”

 _To live_.

Though the details were a little fuzzy, Prompto was beginning to understand.

“We wondered what the definition of ‘human’ was.” Prompto stared at their interlocked hands.

“Why don’t you consult Moogle as you always do?” Ignis asked curiously. “Most days, I can’t seem to peel your attention away from it; literally lost in your head for minutes, sometimes even hours.”

Prompto’s shoulders slumped. “We’re… trying not to do that as much anymore,” he replied slowly.

“Oh? And why is that?” Ignis lifted their hands, but didn’t allow them to part quite yet. He was studying them, his gloved hand against Prompto’s bare.

“We decided that we want to learn about things on our own. Through the people we’re around. Not... through our software. Not through strangers’ words. Just.. through our own deductions. And experiences.”

“I see.”

Even though Prompto was at Ignis’ side, he felt that familiar gravitational pull, something telling him that he wanted to be closer. He should be closer. They were holding hands already, so how could they possibly be even closer?

Prompto decided to try. He shifted closer to Ignis’ side, their legs touching. He watched for Ignis’ reaction, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, but the man made no effort to stop him. He proceeded, leaned against Ignis’ side, and to his surprise, he felt Ignis’ body press back against him, making it a mutual act.

Ignis’ lips parted as a breath escaped him, but he said nothing.

They remained like this for awhile, the sound of Noctis and Gladiolus chatting and laughing, the crackling embers of the campfire, filling the air. It was… peaceful. Prompto felt that same indescribable feeling surface inside of him once more, and he hoped that one day he would be able to understand what it really was. Human emotions, even simulated ones, were complicated.

“Hey, Ignis,” Prompto asked, breaking the silent air between them temporarily. “Earlier, when you said that you were lonely sometimes… are… you lonely right now?” His voice was barely a whisper, worried that a louder volume would threaten to destroy the moment.

Ignis was silent. Instead of audible words, he chose to respond with his gentle touch instead. He ran a gloved hand through Prompto’s hair, and even if Prompto technically couldn’t _feel_ it, he leaned his head into the touch automatically. The gesture was… comforting. It felt nice. Like a hug, it was affectionate, and coming from Ignis, Prompto knew that it was special. The only word he could use to describe it was ‘warm’, even if he had no concept of temperature.

“No,” Ignis replied at last, tucking the longer strand of Prompto’s hair behind his ear. “I’m not.”

“Us, too,” Prompto admitted. He closed his eyes, and as Ignis slid his arm around his shoulders and held him close, he wished desperately that he could feel that warmth.


	8. REUNION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo LittleBlueSparrow drew [this AMAZING art based on the tent scene from Chapter 7](http://challengeyourfate.tumblr.com/post/175344749445) and everyone needs to see it!!!!
> 
> Thanks, again, to everyone for your support <3 <3

DATA LOG #8: REUNION  


The journey to the Vesperpool, where Sania was staying, took longer than they had originally predicted. After consulting a map, they plotted out their route with the intention of taking the most direct road but met with several challenges along the way. Detours. Road blocks. Swarms of more daemons than they’d ever seen in one place that required extermination, resulting in more delays on top of copious fatigue. The car even broke down for a day, but thankfully Gladiolus was able to repair it with the tools they’d packed, with direction from Ignis. (They ended up fighting and didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the day, but at least the car was fixed as a result.)

Soon, they had been on the road for over a month. Prompto could tell that everyone was starting to feel the wear and tear of the long travel time and the exertion of energy that came with it. Again, he’d asked Ignis if there was something he could do, anything at all to help his friends, but the response was always the same: one big no with a capital N-O.

Dejected, Prompto yet again sat huddled in the back of the car, waiting for his companions to return at the side of the road. Seven kept him company as he always did. Just like Prompto, Seven was curious about absolutely everything and anything. Unable to follow his task program, let alone see or move or hear anything, Seven had no other way to pass the time except chat with Prompto. He asked about the world, about Prompto, what Prompto was doing and seeing at that moment, everything Prompto had learned ever since he’d left the aquarium.

Prompto was happy to oblige. He was glad to see that Seven was still running his basic A.I. program. The program granted him the ability to learn and adapt, along with the gift of a personality. It appeared to be running with no problems, as far as he could tell.

‘ _Is Ignis okay?’_ Seven asked after Prompto informed him that the others were off daemon hunting.

Ah, yes. Seven’s other favorite subject... was Ignis.

Prompto had let Ignis take his phone a few nights ago. Ignis was just as curious about Seven as Seven was of him, so he’d decided to partake in a little experiment and have a little one-on-one chat with him. The result? Seven wouldn’t stop asking Prompto questions about Ignis ever since.

Prompto couldn’t blame him for his fixation, though - after all, it was kind of his fault. Most days, Prompto found that he couldn’t stop thinking about Ignis. They spent every day together, and when it was time to settle down for the evening, the two of them cuddled up in the tent, like they had that one night. It was as if somewhere along the way, they had formed a routine and each night Prompto learned something new about Ignis.

Ignis had told Prompto stories about his childhood, his experiences that he had lived through, the good and the bad. Prompto hung on his every word, fascinated and grateful that he had managed to get Ignis open up to him, bit by bit. He cherished those moments, and while he kept the more personal information he’d learned between the two of them, he told Seven everything else. Ignis’ favourite colour (purple). His favourite childhood memory (when his uncle had taken him to a lake and he played in the water with the other kids there). His favourite dessert (fluffy chiffon cake). Why he loved Ebony so much (it has a pleasant, smooth bitterness like none other).

The man occupied most of his thoughts. Prompto wondered if by some odd glitch the folder he’d named ‘Ignis’ in his head had full on evolved into ‘Ignis.exe’ and was running constantly in the background, a ‘task’ that he couldn’t close. Maybe Ignis.exe was a virus and he’d accidentally infected Seven with it. If so, then oops, but at the very least it kept Seven occupied and curious.

‘He’s doing fine, Seven,’ Prompto sent back.

‘ _Is he back yet?’_

‘No, not yet.’

‘ _Then how do you know he’s fine? You said he’s fighting daemons, right?’_

‘Yeah. He’s with Noct and Gladio, though. So he’ll be fine no matter what.’

‘ _How do you know that for sure?’_

‘We just do. We trust them to watch over him, protect him. And besides, Ignis… well… Ignis is really skilled. It would take more than just a daemon to take him down.’

_‘Daemons are dangerous, though.’_

‘Yeah, but Ignis is even more dangerous.’ Prompto smirked as he sank in his seat.

_‘Wait, but we thought you said that daemons are huge, fast and have sharp claws and teeth?’_

‘Just like Ignis.’

_‘We don’t comprehend, Prompto.’_

Prompto laughed out loud at that. ‘Sorry, Seven. That was a joke. Our point is, Ignis is really strong. You don’t have to worry about him, okay?’

‘ _All right, but make sure you tell us right away if something happens.’_

‘We will, Seven. And hey, guess what. Whenever we figure out how to access your system directly and grant ourselves administrator capabilities, we’ll be able to install a program that’ll let you see what we see. Literally. Through our eyes. So you won’t be left in the dark anymore. Also literally. You’ll get to see Ignis, and everyone else. Then you’ll have more reason to believe us when we give you a status report.’

_‘Really? To see what you see... Oh man, we can’t wait. Prompto, you’re amazing!’_

Prompto smiled. ‘Aw, no way. How can we be amazing when it’s actually you who’s the amazing one here? To the max.’

_‘We can both be amazing. Together.’_

‘Darn right we will, bro.’

The more he spoke and bonded with Seven, the more Prompto began to understand human family dynamics. He’d always thought of his brothers as, well, his brothers, but with Seven, it was a little different. He considered it comparable to the definition of a ‘little brother’... even though they were technically the same age. Sort of. It… was a bit complicated.

“Hey Prom,” Noctis greeted, sliding into the back seat of the car beside him. Prompto had been so invested in his conversation with Seven that he hadn’t noticed that his friends had returned. Noctis smiled at him, adjusting the hood of his massive parka.

“Oh! Hey! Welcome back!” Prompto greeted. He perked up just in time to see Ignis and Gladiolus get into the front seat.

Prompto tapped out another message to Seven. ‘They’re back. No one’s hurt. Everyone’s fine.’

‘ _And Ignis? He's really okay, right?’_

Prompto met Ignis’ gaze in the rearview mirror when the man settled back into the driver’s seat. He couldn’t help but smile, and he caught a glimpse of Ignis smiling back at him in return.

‘Ignis doesn’t have a scratch on him. See? What did we tell you? Ignis is incredible.’

‘ _What a relief! We can relax now.’_

Prompto suppressed a laugh. ‘That's right, buddy. It's all good.’

He hoped he could find Seven in person soon. He couldn't wait to hug him, tell him how much he meant to him in audible speech, rather than just through a series of text.

Things really seemed to be looking up lately. Noctis looked less and less tired. Ignis looked happier than he ever had since they’d first met. As for Gladiolus, the closer they got to the Vesperpool, the more nervous and uneasy he appeared.

Prompto reached into his pocket and pulled out the frog keychain he still kept on him at all times. A gift. From Sania.

He couldn’t wait to see her again.

≈

“Prompto, wake up, we’re here,” came Noctis’ voice as he gently nudged Prompto’s shoulder. “Wait. You don’t sleep, but I swear for a second that you do. Anyway, we’re here.”

Prompto wasn’t sure what happened, but he’d ended up going into standby mode for the last several hours of their drive. Seven had stopped replying to his messages, Noctis had fallen asleep, Gladiolus was busy reading a book, and Ignis appeared to be deep in thought while he drove, making the car ride quiet and uneventful.

Had Prompto actually fallen asleep? No, that was impossible. He shook his head, sitting up as the others vacated the car. He tucked his phone into his pocket and went to join them outside the vehicle.

The Vesperpool… was something else.

It was a city. A full fledged city contained within the outer protective walls. Tall buildings circled the perimeter of a large lake, street lamps lining the narrow walkway roads. A large facility had been built on the opposite side of the lake, partially over the water. Multiple gigantic mills churned in the water, converting its power into energy to serve the people who resided there.

This city… had full blown electricity. It wasn’t just outdoor lighting powered by small generators. No, this place came very close to how Prompto’s friends had described their home, Insomnia. It was a city filled with people and housed multiple production plants. A hub for supply distribution to the smaller settlements all across Lucis, a place where people could seek refuge and feel like their lives hadn’t been tossed for a loop when the darkness, and daemons, came.

It was… incredible.

“Noct and I are gonna check the place out. Text us when you’re ready to regroup later, all right?” Gladiolus looked at the pair, Ignis and Prompto, standing side by side as always.

“Very well. We will let you know if we find suitable lodging, as well as if we happen to come across your wayward girlfriend,” Ignis replied, no doubt studying Gladiolus’ stance, determining whether the man was nervous about being here or not.

And he definitely was. Something was a little different about Gladiolus right then. Maybe it was the way his thick eyebrows seemed… thicker than normal on his forehead, pursed together. The way his arms were tucked defensively across his chest. Or maybe it was the way he kept fiddling with the orange feather earring that hung from his ear, running his fingers along the quill and smoothing the tip into a point. Even Prompto could tell that it was glaringly obvious that he really wanted to be somewhere else right now; preferably somewhere far, far away from his relationship problems and the inevitable confrontation that came with them.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Please do,” Gladiolus muttered. He raised his hand before he clapped it to Noctis’ upper back, turning and heading down the road with Noctis at his side.

Now alone, Prompto and Ignis stood in silence at the city’s edge. When the initial awe began to wear off, they departed to explore the city, walking hand-in-hand. They quickly discovered that there was a reason why the Vesperpool was next in line to be the next capital of Lucis. There were retail stores, places for the residents to shop; food and clothing and other knick knacks for sale. Hotels had been erected here and there. Smaller housing complexes, an entire residential area, were still a work in progress, built in the underground ruins that had been discovered there. It was an impressively developed settlement, a whole other world hidden behind the tall walls surrounding it. If it weren’t for the permanent darkness and the daemons, it would have given the illusion that there was nothing wrong in the world in present.

“It’s almost eerie,” Ignis said, breaking the silence between them as they found a bench to sit down on for a momentary break. “I was aware of how rapidly the community here had expanded during the ten years of darkness, but I have to admit, I was entirely unprepared to see just how… remarkable it really is in person.”

“Is it really that weird?” Prompto asked curiously. He shifted closer to Ignis, leaning against him for support. He felt Ignis tense, and for a second he was sure that the man was going to shrug him away, but then he relaxed.

“Before the darkness came, Insomnia was the biggest city on this continent,” Ignis explained. “Nowhere else had ever come close to its splendor, its technology. Here, though, it has very nearly been beat in terms of grandeur.”

“And in just ten years, huh? Wow.” Prompto watched as a group of teenagers passed by in front of them, laughing and horsing around as they went.

“I suppose it’s not so much of a surprise. The world simply had no choice but to evolve, and quickly. Lest we all perish,” Ignis added. “We are very fortunate that the human race possesses the ability to adapt. The survival instinct alone can make the impossible possible, in extreme circumstances.”

Prompto had learned about the challenges the world had faced ever since it fell into the permanent darkness, but many of the details were still fuzzy to him. “But… Noctis is going to fix all of it, right?” he asked. “He’s the King. You said it was his duty, and that only he has the power to turn things around, change the world back to what it used to be ten years ago.”

“That’s right.” Ignis sighed, his warm breath puffing in a dissipating cloud in front of his face.

Prompto knew better than to ask Ignis to elaborate on the subject, so instead he chose to change it. “This place is huge.”

“That it is,” Ignis replied curtly.

The lighting in the city was bright, as if someone had harvested the sun’s flame and stuffed it into a thousand lanterns above them. It was easy for Prompto to forget that it wasn't natural. He could see Ignis’ green eyes, deep emeralds beneath the lenses of his glasses, glimmering with an intensity he’d never noticed until now.

“How’re we gonna find Sania here?” Prompto wondered aloud. His excitement was starting to fizzle, replaced instead with uncertainty over the large ground they had to cover. “Only Gladio has her phone number, so it’s not like we can just… call her up out of nowhere and ask for her GPS location. He didn’t seem interested in giving it to us, either.”

“I’m afraid not. But I assure you, it isn't as hopeless as it appears at first glance,” Ignis replied. “Tell me, Prompto. If you were your friend Sania right now, where would you be? Where would you prefer to stay? To live?”

Prompto tapped his boot to the ground. “Well, that’s easy. We’d be outside. Somewhere… marshy,” he answered simply. When the words left his mouth, he perked up immediately and stared up at Ignis, a revelation in progress. “Wait. We’re near a lake. Right? And there’s people living by the lake.”

“That is correct.”

“Which means…” Prompto began.

“...it is very likely that your friend Sania has taken up residency there,” Ignis finished for him.

Prompto’s hand was back in Ignis’ faster than a chocobo on gysahl greens as he hopped to his feet, pulling the man up with him. “Ignis, let’s go check it out! We’ve got nothing to lose but time, right? Come on, come on!”

Ignis chuckled, allowing Prompto to lead him off in a random direction. “Prompto, do you even know where you're going?” he asked in jest, his boots scraping against the pavement.

Prompto paused in his steps. “Er, well, lakes… they've gotta be, uh…” he said awkwardly. “Hard to miss ‘em, right? If we were a lake, where would we be…” He was right on his way to launching Moogle for a quick search, but stopped himself short. _No more consulting Moogle. We promised ourself not to,_ he chided internally.

Ignis smiled. “Allow me.”

And with a squeeze to his hand, Prompto allowed Ignis to take the lead this time.

≈

The lakeside residences were exactly as Prompto had imagined. An entire community resided there, large tents pegged to the green grass beneath them, colourful tarps hanging along erected poles above the sitting areas in each resident’s ‘yard’. Dividers stood between some, while others seemed to span for meters as one continuous property. Trees and planked docks decorated the shoreline, small boats fastened securely to the wooden posts poking out of the water. Campfires burned in designated circular pits, providing warmth and a means of preparing meals.

As Prompto and Ignis walked along the nearby pathway, scanning the site the best they could without intruding on the residents’ privacy, Prompto was beginning to lose hope. There was still no sign of Sania. In what was essentially Sania Land, there was no Sania to be found. Prompto expressed his worry to Ignis, who was silent, busy taking in his surroundings the very same as Prompto was.

“No need to fret, Prompto,”  Ignis reassured him. “The lake is massive. We still have some ways to go yet before we make it back to where we began. In the meantime, won’t you agree that the sights here are a spectacle to behold?”

Prompto frowned. “Yeah. We’re really beholding them all and stuff. But we just wanna find Sania.”

“I know, Prompto. And we will. Just be patient.”

Prompto tried his very best. Ignis managed to distract him with stories of his home back in Insomnia while they walked, telling him all about the customers he used to get at his tailor shop.

“There was this one woman who… well, she had a very… fortunate, yet at the same time, unfortunate, bottom,” Ignis mused.

“Bottom…” Prompto blinked a few times. “Oh. Wait. You mean… _that_ kind of bottom.” He grinned. “And? What about this ‘bottom’?”

“A lovely lady, that one, and one that certainly benefited from being wealthy,” Ignis recalled. “She loved to shop. Trousers were her impulse buy garment of choice, but because of her… shapely backside, she ended up having to take in the back seam on every single pair she bought. The way the average pair of pants sat on her hips made the waistband pucker awkwardly above her bottom every time, no matter the type of fabric or the style of garment. I certainly didn’t mind helping her with her unique problem, as she gave my shop a lot of business, but I still felt a little bad that nothing ever fit her as-is.

“Then, there was the time when a man, so perturbed and in denial of the length he had requested his trousers be hemmed to, stood outside my business with a clipboard, trying to get passerby’s signatures for a petition to shut me down.”

“What the heck?” Prompto laughed. “What was his deal, anyway?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, but the man was determined. The police knew him by name.”

“Over a pair of _pants_?”

“Yes. I took pride in my accurate measurements and I followed exactly what was recorded when he requested the service. He was just… troubled, I suppose. Or, regretted having his slacks shortened to capri length, after he’d ignored my advice to… not, and tried to put the blame on me, when it was he who gave the instruction in the first place.”

“Oh man, no way. He willingly got flood pants and then complained about it?” Prompto laughed even harder. “What even?!”

“I know. Puzzling.” Ignis couldn’t help but laugh, too. “He'd certainly made things interesting for awhile.”

Right when Prompto found himself wishing that he could bottle up that laugh so he could hear it whenever he wanted, he found his operating system stutter to a halt. _Oh, no. Not again. Not now._ He slowed to a stop and placed his hands on his head.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, stopping at his side.

No response.

Prompto swayed on his feet, tripping over his own boots as his balance completely cut out. Ignis scrambled to catch him and succeeded, moving his arm around his body to hold him upright.

“Prompto, can you hear me?” Ignis asked in concern.

He couldn't. All Prompto heard was the grinding of his processor chugging along, drowning out the sound of anything external. This was bad. This wasn't good at all. Inside, he was panicking, but he couldn't voluntarily move or speak, no matter how hard he tried.

Then, while Ignis guided him over to a nearby bench, he briefly saw a flash of numbers in front of his eyes.

‘83.’

_Eighty-three._

What did it mean?

His backside hit the bench, and then all at once, it was over. System back to normal. Functions restored. As quickly as it had begun, it had finished, leaving Prompto in a daze.

“Whoa,” Prompto groaned. “That… was a doozy.” His vision, momentarily pixelated like a kaleidoscope, slowly scattered back into place. Beside him was Ignis, who held Prompto’s face with his gloved hands, brows furrowed in worry.

“Are you all right? Can you hear me? Can you move?” Ignis bombarded him with questions. Prompto just nodded, shrugging away his hands so he could test out his mobility.

“Y-y-y-y-yeah, w-we think s-so,” he warbled. Prompto bit his lip, frustrated, before trying again. “We’re....okay. Just had another glitch. It's… it’s all good.”

Ignis didn't look convinced. His lips pursed before he gave a soft sigh. “Perhaps we should turn back, find a place to stay for the night. Continue our search tomorrow.”

“We said we’re fine, Ignis.” Prompto rose to his feet experimentally. He wobbled, and Ignis was quick to correct him, holding him up until Prompto’s equilibrium restored itself properly.

“You’re certain?” Ignis’ gaze was intense on him.

“Yeah. We’re certain.” Prompto forced a smile, reaching for Ignis’ hand again. “Can… we keep going? Please? We’re just… we’re so close. So close, we can practically taste it. And y’know, since we don’t have any tastebuds, that means it’s gotta be true, right?”

Ignis didn't seem to be comforted by Prompto’s reassurance, but for now he allowed them to continue on. He nodded and firmly took hold of his hand, his body tense as if readying himself to catch Prompto if he fell at a moment’s notice.

Just when Prompto was about to say something else, a nearby voice cut the sombre air between them.

“Welcome back. Did ya find what you were looking for?” came a gruff voice.

Ignis and Prompto both turned toward the direction of the voice. A stout, elderly gentleman stood on the nearby dock, assisting someone off of their boat.

“Not yet, but I just know that I’m _so close_ , I can practically taste it,” came a second voice, softer, higher in tone. A woman.

‘ _So close, I can practically taste it._ ’

Wait.

Was this… the phenomenon that humans called _déjà vu_?

“But more importantly, would you like to go ahead and tell me why you’re not only on your feet, you’re on your feet without your cane?” the woman continued. “You’re going to pop your knee out again if you’re not careful. The cold is nipping something fierce today.”

The man gave an annoyed groan. “Quit your fussin’. I’m just fine. Cold be damned.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be damned if you don’t take better care of yourself, Mr. Forlane.”

“Thanks, dear, but as I said, I’m fine,” the man insisted.

“How can you expect to take care of your birds if you can hardly stand on your feet anymore?” she shot back. “You've gotta take care of yourself, honey.”

The man groaned again. “I’ll try to remember my cane from now on.”

“That's better. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Prompto slowly let go of Ignis’ hand.

Prompto knew that voice. He knew it so well, it had been forever etched into his memory, deep inside his very circuits. It would be impossible for him to mistake it for anyone else. Like a sailor drawn to the siren’s call on the water, his feet moved for him, possessing a mind of their own.

He now stood at the foot of the dock, staring at the owners of the voices from the water’s edge. He gripped the bottom of his scarf between anxious fingers, and when his eyes confirmed what his mind had been screaming at him, he was shocked that he hadn’t had another system crash right then and there.

Sania.

Clad in a cyan winter jacket with yellow furred trim, a rose pink earflapped fisher’s hat on her head to complete the ensemble, it was apparent that her preference for clothing colour coordination hadn't changed one bit. Her eyes, tired from working long hours, hid behind large circular red framed glasses. Down by her neck, where Prompto remembered there being fluffy twintails, there was no sign of hair at all peeking out from beneath her hat. Had she finally cut it all off like she'd always wanted to?

Her heavy rubber boots began to clomp against the dock’s creaky planks as she walked, supply bag in one hand while the other rested on the elderly man’s shoulder at her side.

_Clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp._ Then, there was silence as she stopped in her tracks. Staring at the person standing at the water’s edge, her grip on her bag relaxed, hand trembling.

Their eyes met, and Prompto desperately fought off another system stutter.

Sania.

His best friend.

She was here. She was really here, right in front of his very eyes. He wasn’t imagining this. This was really happening. It had been ten years since they'd parted ways, ten years since she'd tearfully begged him to leave the aquarium with her and he’d refused because of his directive.

Thanks to the new directive Ignis had given him, this reunion had been made possible.

Sania’s face twisted in confusion as she continued to stare at Prompto. She abandoned her bag, dropping it on the dock with a _thunk_ before she continued forward.

“It can't be,” she said softly. “How… no, no, this can't be. This just cannot be. My eyes are right playing tricks on me again. Wiz, sweetheart, I'm not imagining things, am I?”

The old man, Wiz, grunted in response. “What’re you goin’ on about, dear?”

Sania ignored him as she walked right up to Prompto, leaning in close until their noses were practically touching. Her eyesight never really was the best, even with her gigantic thick glasses. “Are you my Prompto?” she asked at last. “I don't think my heart is gonna be able to handle this, regardless of your reply. I may just keel over and drift off in the lake like a stiff.”

Prompto felt something twist in his throat, a sensation he’d never felt before. He was frozen, unable to speak or move other than the faint automatic trembling in his mechanical joints. Then, he felt something flutter in his chest. For a second, it scared him. Was he about to break?

Sania brushed his bangs away from his eyes. She gently pushed on his chest, coaxing him to step into the overhead light’s beam to inspect him with clarity. “Freckles,” she whispered, her thumbs tracing along the apples of Prompto’s cheeks before she cradled his face in her palms. Her lips began to tremble. “You've got freckles. None of the others did. You're my Prompto. There’s no doubt about it.”

Prompto’s shaking hands rose to Sania’s wrists, lightly gripping the cuff of her sleeves while her hands remained on his face. “Sania,” Prompto managed at last. “It's... it's so good to see you.”

Prompto stumbled forward as Sania suddenly pulled him close, her arms wrapping firmly around him. “You haven’t changed one bit. Frozen in time,” Sania said softly, her voice wavering and twisting with emotion as she took a shaky breath. Crying. She was crying… but why? Before Prompto could ask, she continued. “Meanwhile, here I am shrivelling away like an old prune, unable to stand my ground in the sands of time.”

Prompto laughed. “Sania, you’re not all shrivelly. You’re just as beautiful as you were ten years ago. You haven’t changed either.” He returned the hug, leaning his head against hers as he closed his eyes, the comfort of familiarity, of someone he cared for, soothing him.

Sania laughed, a strangled yet joyous sound that burst from her chest, past the tears that ran from her eyes. “Oh honey, you always were way too good to me.” She sighed before continuing. “Prompto, I've missed you so much. Don't you dare think for a minute that there hasn't been a day in my life that I haven’t thought about you. Leaving you behind nearly killed me. I couldn't live with myself for a very long time. I was so sure I’d never see your sweet smiling face again.”

Prompto nuzzled her hat with his cheek. “It's not your fault,” he replied gently. “It's… it's ours. We really couldn't leave. We’re sorry we hurt you… really, really sorry. We missed you, Sania. We thought about you every day too, hoping you were doing all right.”

A small sob slipped past her throat as she tried to cease her tears. “Doll Face, don't you worry about all that. None of that matters anymore. What matters now is that the Six brought you back to me safe and sound, and have forgiven me for what I’d done.” Sania paused, lifting her head so she could meet Prompto’s gaze. She ran her hands affectionately up and down his back before they came to rest on his shoulder blades.

“How long has it been? Must be... ten years, now. My goodness. Has it really been that long?” she asked softly.

Prompto resisted the urge to give her an exact recollection of time, right down to the minutes and seconds. “Yeah. It has. Crazy, huh?” he replied, giving her a smile.

Sania returned the smile, that same warm smile that had comforted Prompto in the past. His Sania.

“Ten long years of craziness,” Sania said. “I can’t hardly believe it… but look at you. You made it. Oh, we have so much to catch up on. Come on, Doll Face, let’s head over to my tent so we can have a long overdue chat.”

Meanwhile, behind them, Wiz cleared his throat.

“Oh, that's right.” Sania released Prompto, turning as she gestured to the man she had been talking to previously. “Wiz, this here is Prompto. He worked with me back at the Argentum Aquatic Centre, a long long time ago.”

“Well, ain’t that nice. It’s good to meet you,” Wiz replied with a crooked smile as he walked over, extending his hand to Prompto for a handshake. “Hope you didn’t give Sania here any trouble back then.”

“No sir. We were always well behaved and courteous to everyone around us, just as we’d been programmed to be,” Prompto replied, shaking his hand. “Sania’s our best friend.”

Sania smiled.

Wiz chuckled. “Programmed, huh? Well, I’m glad the two of you were able to find each other again, then. I’ll leave ya to it.” Wiz released Prompto’s hand and made his way past the pair.

“Don’t you forget your cane, now,” Sania called after him.

“I won’t, dear,” Wiz replied.

Sania stepped back onto the dock to pick up her bag that she’d dropped before returning to Prompto. “Shall we, then?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Prompto took Sania’s hand, which his friend reciprocated without hesitation. He felt happy. Complete, much like a corrupted data fragment that had finally repaired itself. And maybe, internally, something had.

Sania led Prompto away from the water, back onto the path that circled around the lake which connected the various tented neighborhoods. Before they could get very far, though, Prompto stopped, causing Sania to tug on his hand as a result.

“Is something wrong?” Sania asked.

“Oh, uh…” Prompto appeared sheepish as he looked over to the left, where a certain someone had been waiting patiently for him to return.

Ignis. With his proper posture, perfectly styled hair and overall regal appearance, he’d watched the entire reunion take place from the water’s edge, not wanting to intrude on the personal moment. “It’s quite all right, Prompto,” he said gently. “I’ll head back to the city and meet up with the others. You have your phone on you, correct? You can text me when you feel it is necessary.”

Ignis… was leaving him here?

Oh, right. His directive had been set with the intention of being able to bend its meaning. Ignis didn’t have to be with him at all times. He just had to be in the same general vicinity. Right? This was fine.

“Okay,” Prompto replied, biting his lip. He wanted to ask him to stay, but… he knew Ignis really didn’t have anything to do with what they were going to be talking about. Sort of.

“And who might this gentleman be?” Sania asked curiously.

“This is Ignis Scientia. He’s really important to us,” Prompto replied quickly. “He… helped us get out of the aquarium.”

Ignis walked up to them, offering a gloved hand to Sania. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said politely as he shook Sania’s hand. “I’ve heard much about you from Prompto.”

Sania snorted. “Oh boy, I sure hope not. It’s very nice to meet you too. Let’s chat later, Mr. Scientia. I’ll take good care of our Prompto here in the meantime.” Her hand lingered against Ignis’ for a moment before she let go, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets afterward.

“Thank you. Please take your time, and I shall see you later, then.” Ignis smiled, taking his leave as he turned and began to walk away.

Prompto stared at Ignis’ back, watching as he slowly shrank into the distance.

Sania hummed. “Well isn’t he just a tall glass of water?” she murmured. She was smirking, her eyes elsewhere, and when Prompto followed Sania’s line of sight he found she was staring at Ignis’ exit as well.

Prompto crinkled his nose. “Huh? We don’t get it.”

“Oh, honey, I mean that he’s handsome.”

Prompto blinked. “Is he?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh.”

Prompto had never thought about that before. _Handsome_. He knew what it meant to find another person attractive, he’d just… well, he’d never really thought about it in terms of another person, other than Sania. Sania was beautiful. Sania was lovely, inside and out, no doubt in his mind. But Ignis?

_Handsome._

Huh.

“Now, if I weren’t already in a committed relationship, I’d be tempted to ask him out on my boat so we could talk nature,” Sania added in an a cheery tone.

Prompto perked up. He was about to excitedly announce his connection to Gladiolus when he stopped himself short. Gladiolus had said that they were ‘sort of’ together… and Sania had seemed really friendly with Wiz just now... Oh, no.

“A relationship? With… with Wiz?” he asked innocently.

Sania stared at him before she burst out laughing. “Wiz? Are you kidding me?! He’s like my grandfather! Prompto, no.” She removed her glasses for a moment to rub at her eyes. “Wiz is my neighbor and friend, and we are in no way involved. Oh, honey,” she was still laughing as she took hold of Prompto’s hand again, continuing on with their path.

“My partner unfortunately isn’t here,” Sania continued. “We haven’t seen each other for quite some time. I’m not sure when we’ll meet again, but I have a feeling it’ll be sooner than I think. He’s always had a way with just… showing up. Unannounced.” She crinkled her nose, much like Prompto did on occasion. “Uninvited.”

Prompto watched her curiously. “So… do you even like him? Cuz we’re getting the impression that you kinda don't.”

“Of course I like him. I just don't like his spontaneity. I don't like being interrupted when I'm in The Zone. When I'm in The Zone, The Zone takes precedence. I can’t very well throw everything aside because there's a chance that I may never reach The Zone again. Do you understand?”

Prompto didn't. “Uh, sure, Sania.”

“Things haven't been so good in recent times, but I'm willing to talk it out. If he’d just _listen_ to what I'm _saying_ every now and again, we wouldn’t be in this pickle. No, no we would not.”

Prompto was lost. He thought back to the phone conversation he’d sort of overheard all that time ago between Gladiolus and Sania. What exactly had happened between them?

Maybe he shouldn't drop that Gladiolus bomb quite yet.

Sania was still ranting, and now Prompto was _really_ lost. “Sania, you’re rambling again,” he said fondly. He couldn’t help but smile. “Damn. We really missed saying that.”

Sania stopped, her train of thought crashing. “Oh. Sorry. Look at me, running my mouth about boys when there's many more interesting things to discuss. Like you. Being here. My Prompto is here, life is good today.” She squeezed his hand.

Prompto was… elated. He felt like he was soaring above the clouds.

Sania led Prompto over to her place of residence: a large tent, protected by tarps hanging overhead, as well as a small seating area with lawn chairs near a fire pit. “Home sweet home,” she said. “Go ahead and have a seat. Would you like some coffee? How do you like it?”

Prompto sat down in one of the chairs as he watched his friend putter around the campsite. “Uh, Sania? You know we can't eat or drink anything. Though lately we’ve been really, really wishing that we could.”

She was already putting on a pot of water to boil over the fire pit when she hesitated. “Right. Right, of course. Quite nearly forgot. Are you sure you’re not human and that you haven't been pulling a fast one on me this whole time? Because something about you seems… different.”

Prompto rested his hands in his lap. “Uh huh. Not human, but we’re not really a service bot anymore.”

“You were never a ‘service bot’ to me, sweetheart.”

“We know. And it made us really happy that you didn't treat us like everyone else did.”

“You were my sweet boy and you still are. Look at you. This is the first time I've seen you in normal clothing instead of your mascot uniform. Did that man, Ignis, buy you those clothes? You look so handsome and grown up.”

Prompto fidgeted with his scarf as he smiled shyly. _Handsome_. He was handsome, too? “Yeah. He did. He altered them. He's a tailor, y’know. He fixed them up so they fit us. He's… done a lot for us.”

“So it would seem. Now, would you mind telling me how the heck you were able to leave the aquarium? You should have shut down and lost all functionality if you stepped outside those walls.”

“Ignis,” Prompto answered. “He… overwrote our directive.”

Sania stopped what she was doing. “He did what?”

“He found the administrator key card in the upstairs office and gave us a new one,” Prompto explained simply. “No biggie.”

Sania’s brows furrowed, deep in thought. “You still shouldn't have been able to leave,” she said slowly. “Even with a new directive, your programming and task scheduler would have prevented you from being functional if you left the indoor vicinity of the aquarium. Even if he gave you the directive of ‘go play outside in the fountain all day’ it still wouldn't have worked, because it’s not part of the aquarium’s customer service tasks. You would have had to have been completely reprogrammed by an external source, meaning you’d have to be shipped back out to headquarters, all the way to Niflheim.”

Prompto just stared at her. “Well, uh, obviously that didn't happen, cuz we didn't go on vacation to Niflheim. Oh, and our task scheduling program kinda… crashed? It's corrupted. Kaput. Doesn't work anymore. Maybe that has something to do with it?”

Now it was Sania’s turn to stare. “Why don't you go ahead and tell me exactly what happened, from the very beginning.” She sat down in the chair across from Prompto, a mug of coffee in her hands.

And he did.

He told her about what happened after he was left behind. How he hid under the desk for five years. How he came out when he heard a frog.

“Oh, no. Don't tell me,” Sania groaned.

Prompto grinned. “Yep. It was Carl.”

“He's still kicking?” Sania paused, her face twisting before she grit her teeth. “That _bastard._ ”

Prompto laughed. “He hid from us for _years!_ We finally just saw him before we left.”

“Sounds about right. The jerk always liked making himself scarce. Slippery like the amphibian he is.”

Prompto smiled as he continued. While he recounted those long years of following his task scheduling program in an empty aquarium, Sania looked pained, distressed even, and stopped him short.

“Honey, I'm so sorry you had to suffer all alone,” she said softly. “I can't even imagine how that must have been for you.”

“No sweat. We were just following our directive. And we were happy to. We didn't even really think anything was off until the day Ignis came. We mean, other than the fact that there were no customers, of course.”

“No one else ever came to the aquarium before that? Not even once, in those ten years?” Sania asked.

“Nope.”

“Hmm. Now that is strange. Very strange indeed. Then what happened?”

Prompto recalled everything that had happened that day. His system crash. Meeting Ignis for the first time. How the more he chatted with Ignis, the stranger things for him got. And then, finally, when his directive was overridden, and he left the aquarium for the very first time.

He got up to the part when he and Ignis were waiting for Ignis’ friends to arrive before he stopped, letting Sania have a moment to take it all in.

“And you've been with Ignis this entire time since then?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Sania leaned back in her chair. “Fascinating.”

“Yeah. So much has happened. Even after that, so much has happened, we don't even know where to start.”

“Sounds like you've been on quite the adventure. I'm so glad that you were being taken care of this whole time. I'll have to personally thank Ignis later for everything he's done for you. So tell me, Prompto. What is it like, functioning with no task program?”

“At first, we were really lost,” Prompto answered honestly. “It just didn't feel right. But the longer we were away from the aquarium, the less we cared about following a schedule. Ignis has taught us so much. We’ve been able to do and see and learn so many things we never could before. It's been really…” He paused, trying to find the right word. “Incredible.”

“You, honey, are the incredible one,” Sania said, admiring Prompto with her gentle gaze. “Your A.I. program is so impressive, I'm not so sure it’s even a program anymore. You've evolved. Like a tadpole to a frog, you're right where you belong now. Away from the water where you can live your own life on land with the other frogs. Making your own decisions. It's.. it's just… it should be impossible, and yet, it's not.”

Prompto smiled. “Heh, well, we’re just all around awesome, we guess. And we’re not a bastard! Like Carl.”

Sania laughed. “You don't have a rotten bone in your body, Prompto. You're nothing like our wayward nemesis.”

Prompto just smiled.

They continued chatting for some time, filling each other in on the ten year gap that had stood between them. Prompto let Sania take the reins for awhile, listening to her recount her experiences with the great outdoors, how on most days she'd risked her life for the greater good of knowledge. She knew a lot about daemons and the other beasts that inhabited the world. When Prompto asked Sania to teach him about them all, they ended up chatting until late in the night, far past when the city’s overhead lights had shut off for the sleep cycle duration.

As Prompto cuddled up to Sania’s dozing side in the tent, he felt something. Something different, something that he wasn't sure if he should be alarmed by. It was familiar, and yet, unlike anything he'd experienced before.

Happiness.

Not simulated. But pure, real happiness. A warmth spread in his chest for the very first time, as if he could actually feel the heavy blanket Sania had wrapped him in.

It scared him.

Was that fear real, too?


	9. BEACON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at last, the Cute Chapter. Hope you enjoy!

DATA LOG #9: BEACON  


A flash of text appeared at the top of his phone screen.

‘ _ Good morning, Prompto _ ,’ it read.

Prompto had spent the entire night chatting with Seven while Sania slept beside him, filling him in on everything that had happened recently. Early in the morning, before the overhead lights automatically turned on as per the city’s day-night schedule, his train of thought crashed when a notification outside of his Cloud Server app popped up on his screen. A text? Who was texting him? Noctis? No. No, it wasn’t Noctis.

Crap. He forgot. He’d intended to text a certain someone before he and Sania retired to the tent for the night, but he was so busy with Seven that it must have slipped his mind.

Prompto sat up immediately, furiously tapping away at his screen. ‘ _ Ignis! We’re so sorry! We forgot all about contacting you! You’re not mad, right? Please don’t be mad _ .’

The response was immediate. ‘ _ It’s all right, Prompto. You don’t have to apologise. How is Sania? _ ’

Relief. Prompto glanced over at Sania. She was sleeping on her side, her head tucked comfortably against a fluffy-looking pillow. With no glasses and no hat, she was almost unrecognizable. ‘ _ She’s good. Sleepy, though. We kinda kept her up too late. We chatted until she practically passed out _ .’

‘ _ I see. I figured as much _ .’

‘ _ We’re having a lot of fun. But… we miss you _ .’

There was a pause before Prompto received his next message, longer than the others before it.

‘ _ I miss you too, _ ’ it read.

His eyes scanned the words over and over. Flopping back down onto the mattress, Prompto pulled the blanket over his head, holding the phone above his face. The phone screen cast a light, illuminating the blanket above him… his own little private world. He was smiling. He couldn’t stop smiling. Words… he’d come to learn that they harnessed a power, like they had been blessed by one of Noctis’ spells. Written, spoken, it didn’t matter. They were just... powerful. Noctis had told him that, once.

The longer he stared at those words, the more he realized… there it was. That warmth in his chest that he’d experienced hours ago.

Before he could send another reply, Ignis sent one more.

‘ _ I have to admit that things are rather lonely when you’re not around. Your absence is noted _ .’

That same warmth spread all the way to his shoulders. He didn’t understand what it meant. Maybe his wiring was in need of calibration.

‘ _ We can’t wait to see you again, _ ’ Prompto sent back.

Another long pause.

‘ _ Would you and Sania like to join us for breakfast? I can provide directions to our hotel, though I’m sure Sania would know the way if I just gave the name. We’re staying at the Oceanus Inn _ .’

Prompto bit his lip.

‘ _ We want to, but there’s a problem _ ,’ he replied.

‘ _ Which is? _ ’

‘ _ We haven’t dropped the bomb _ .’

‘ _ I beg your pardon? _ ’

‘ _ The Gladiolus bomb. _ ’

‘ _ Ah _ .’

‘ _ She doesn’t know that he’s here, or that we know him _ .’

‘ _ I see. Interesting. I would have thought that you would drop that ‘bomb’ right away _ .’

‘ _ We think she hates him _ .’

‘ _ LOL _ .’

Prompto stared at his screen in disbelief. Did Ignis seriously just drop an “LOL”? He’d always thought that Ignis was on a completely different level of texting than Noctis was, but then again, this was the first time he’d actually texted Ignis. For all he knew, Ignis was all about the chatspeak and emojis. Prompto suppressed a laugh, not wanting to wake up Sania, who was still snoring softly at his side.

‘ _ She told us that the last words she’d said to him in person were ‘get bent’. What does that even mean? _ ’

Another pause.

‘ _ That may complicate things _ ,’ sent Ignis.

‘ _ We can drop all the bombs, if you want us to. Just say the word and boom, it’ll detonate. Should we? _ ’

‘ _ I think perhaps the best option would be to send Gladiolus there on his own and let them talk things out instead of dropping any aforementioned bombs. Sometimes, surprise is the key to a communication lock _ .’

‘ _ She says she hates his spontaneity. Drags her out of The Zone. What does THAT even mean? _ ’

‘ _ Prompto, tell her that you need to pop back into town for a moment. I will send Gladiolus out at the same time. _ ’

‘ _ Okay _ .’ Prompto crinkled his nose. ‘ _ Wait, wouldn’t that be considered spontaneous? _ ’

‘ _ Unfortunately, that is likely the best way we can approach this situation _ .’

‘ _ Right. That’s why it’s a bomb. Okay. So. We just… gotta swap places with him, then? _ ’

‘ _ That is the idea, yes _ .’

‘ _ We’ll see you soon, Ignis _ .’

Prompto looked over at Sania again. He hated to do it, but gently he nudged her awake. “Sania?” he called softly.

“Mmmffff,” she grumbled in response, rolling over onto her opposite side, her back facing Prompto. 

“Uh, dunno if you’re awake, but we gotta go and see Ignis for a little while. Can we come back and see you again later?”

Sania grumbled something incomprehensible before she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes, rubbing at them with her hands. Prompto couldn’t help but think that she reminded him of Noctis right then, only with less cursing. Surprisingly. “Of course, honey, you can do whatever it is your sweet little heart desires,” she mumbled groggily.

“Sania, we don’t have a heart,” Prompto replied.

“Yes, you do. Just because it doesn’t beat doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” she said simply.

Prompto didn’t quite understand. He just nodded, slowly getting to his feet. “We’ll see you later, okay? Maybe we can all meet up for lunch.”

“I’d like that. Take care for now, Doll Face.”

“You too. You won't be going anywhere, right? You'll be staying right here?”

“Yes. I have a paper that won't write itself.”

“Sweet. See ya later, Sania.” With a wave, he ducked out of the tent so he could be on his way.

Prompto decided to take a little detour on his way back to the town. Camera in hand, he snapped photos as he went, admiring the sights. Fascinated by the lighting system overhead. Curious about the tall buildings that stood above the rest, the people he passed on the streets. What stories could they tell? He wanted to hear them all.

Then, when he finally approached the Oceanus Inn, he caught sight of a familiar tall man, leaning against the side of the building by the main entrance.

Cradling an insulated travel mug in his gloved hands stood Ignis, wearing an unfamiliar outfit. A forest green jacket hugged his lean body, accented by a brown knitted scarf that hung low to his hips. The heat radiating from the city masked his breath, no puffs of warm air hitting icy cold, like when they camped. He appeared deep in thought, lips pursed, hair neatly styled upward in the pomp-like style he seemed to favour.

When their eyes met, Ignis raised a hand in greeting. 

“Hello, Prompto,” he called.

When Prompto heard Ignis’ voice, it was instant. That warmth. Again. Only this time, instead of only being contained in his chest and shoulders, it seemed to spread to his stomach, accompanied by a strange tense, yet tingly sensation. 

A sensation.

He wasn't supposed to be able to feel a thing. He didn't have the capability.

And yet, it continued.

Soon, the warmth in his chest turned to something else. It became uncomfortable. It… ached. For the very first time, Prompto experienced something that he could only assume was a form of pain.

But why? And more importantly, how?

Pain was supposed to be unpleasant, he'd learned. And yet… this feeling didn't appear so. For some reason, it felt… okay. It was like a physical version of… what was the closest simulation? Happiness? Excitement? He didn’t even know anymore. He was confused. Uncertain. Scared.

He kept this development to himself.

“Heeeey Ignis! Nice jacket! Didja do some shopping?” Prompto asked cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear as he jogged the rest of the way over to Ignis.

“That I did. I had found myself longing for some new clothing as of late, and this city has delivered. Would you like to do some shopping as well, Prompto?” Ignis asked. 

“If… you feel it’s necessary, yeah.” Prompto lowered his eyes, smiling faintly. His throat twisted, like it had when he first saw Sania again. “We’ve only got a couple outfits, right? But you really don’t have to waste gil on us. It’s not like we’re capable of making them all stinky and stuff.”

“It's always a good idea to have spare clothing,” said Ignis. “It’s not a matter of whether you soil it or not, but rather in the event that there are any wears and tears that not even I can salvage with a needle and thread. Besides, you deserve some new clothing, just as we all do. A present, from me to you. Shall we?” Ignis extended his hand to Prompto, while the other firmly held onto his mug.

This time, there was a moment’s hesitation before Prompto reciprocated, taking Ignis’ hand in his own. 

He swore he felt Ignis’ warmth against his hand, just for a split second.

On the way to the market, which Ignis described as being more similar to a ‘mall’, Prompto filled him in on what happened with Sania. Her observations, her curiosity about everything surrounding Prompto’s development. The fact that Sahagin, Prompto’s favourite aquarium critter, used to inhabit this lake and that some still did. Currently, she was writing a paper about the mutations she had observed in her research, specifically those found in the aquatic wildlife.

Ignis seemed to enjoy listening to Prompto talk. He offered nothing but a chorus of “Ah” and “I see” and “And then what?”’s to keep Prompto going, which Prompto happily obliged. Chatting about Sania and aquatic life made Prompto’s nonexistent heart sing, and with Ignis as his audience, he felt that he could perform an entire solo concert.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Ignis was insistent that Prompto gained a new wardrobe. He led him along from store to store, from kiosk to kiosk, as if he had his mind set on a particular outfit that no one seemed to stockpile. When they passed by a stall that specifically sold hats, Prompto asked something that he had been curious about for quite some time.

“Hey Ignis, how come you never wear hats?” he asked, slowing to a stop as he turned to face the stall, his hand giving a tug as Ignis attempted to keep going.

“It's not that I necessarily have anything against them. It's just that I find them… impractical,” Ignis replied.

Prompto raised an eyebrow. “Impractical? But why?”

“No reason.”

“Aw, c’mon. Hats are pretty good. We mean, we wore one all the time as part of our uniform. We didn’t even notice it after awhile. There's gotta be a reason,” Prompto retorted, giving Ignis’ hand an insistent tug.

“There isn't. Shall we move along?” Ignis suggested.

Prompto pouted. “Come oooon. Where's the fire? We wanna browse!”

Ignis appraised Prompto for moment before he nodded, giving in. “Very well.”

Prompto grinned victoriously, bouncing on his heels, his hair bobbing along with him. “We think you'd look pretty good with a hat, actually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“And just what kind of hat do you think would suit me?” Ignis asked, amused.

“Hmm, oh, we dunno, maybe something like… this one.” Prompto twirled on his heels and snatched one of the hats off the rack, holding it up with a grin. A lightweight pink woven hat, weighed down by a massive floppy brim that circled around the base. “Hey, check it out. Discounted. Wonder why?” He waved it in the air playfully in Ignis’ direction.

“Couldn't possibly be because it's a sun hat and there has been no sun to be seen for many years, now,” Ignis mused. There was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Prompto wanted that smile. If he had to, he’d shove his fingers to the sides of Ignis’ mouth and squish his face to make it happen. Thankfully, he had an idea to negate the awkward other option instead.

“Aw, we feel kinda bad for it. But seriously dude. Pink. Your colour. You could totally rock it.” Prompto took a few steps back, holding the hat up in the air so it looked like it was sitting on Ignis’ head from a distance. “Yep. It’s perfect.”

“I'm afraid pink doesn't quite match my eyes,” Ignis replied. “Do you have any other suggestions, Prompto?”

Prompto rubbed at his chin, pensive as his eyes scanned the wide selection of hats. And then, as if it were destiny, his eyes settled on what he could only describe as The One. 

A tall top hat, similar to the ones he saw characters wear in those fancy high-class party scenes in some of the movies he’d watched with Noctis. Those people, he’d thought, reminded him of Ignis, like the man could blend in perfectly in the crowd without even trying. Prompto plucked it off the hook and turned toward Ignis, popping it onto his own head. He tipped it and gave a polite bow. “Top of the morning to you, governor,” he said in his best imitation of Ignis’ accent.

Silence.

Ignis just stared, and just like one of those comedy movies Noctis was fond of, Prompto’s world froze with a record scratch.

Stuck in mid-bow, Prompto didn’t quite make it back upright. That... wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. Had he done something wrong? Oh. The memory of the time he’d experimented with different accents flashed through his mind. Ignis didn’t like it when people mimicked his accent, right?

Before he could stutter out an apology, though, there it was. That laugh. Soft. Melodic. Paired with a flash of pearly white teeth, Ignis’ quirked lips parted into a full on smile as the joyous sound pierced the hole in Prompto’s chest, right where his heart should have been.

It truly was becoming Prompto’s favourite sound in the world.

“I do have to admit that I am partial to formal attire,” Ignis said, the laugh leaving remnants of brightness to his tone as he stepped over to Prompto, taking the hat from him. “Very well, you win. What do you think?” Ignis placed the hat on his head, albeit a little awkwardly, as it didn’t sit quite right with his hair’s upturned style.

Ignis looked… well, he looked perfect. Even with the slight crookedness, the hat looked like it belonged there. Prompto had been right; he really  _ did _ look like he would fit right in at a fancy dress party, right at home with the other fancy people dressed to the nines in tuxedos and cocktail dresses. He didn’t want to forget this. No way was he going to let this moment slide past his fingertips, sneak by without leaving behind a trace of it happening in digital form.

Grabbing the pink sun hat from the rack again, Prompto placed it on his own head before he rushed to Ignis’ side, his hands reaching for the camera that hung around his neck. “C’mon, if this opportunity doesn’t scream ‘selfie!’ to you, then we don’t know what would. Don’t be shy, now. Pretend we’re back at the aquarium. Biiiig smile. Rock that hat like you own it.” 

Prompto delighted in the gift that just kept on giving; Ignis stepped closer to Prompto, his arm sliding around his shoulders, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat, close to Prompto’s ear. “If I could justify the purchase, I would take the plunge and  _ actually  _ own it,” Ignis murmured lightly.

“See? We were right! You  _ do _ like hats.” Prompto adjusted his own hat, floppy as the brim was, before he unhooked the camera from its strap and held it up in front of them, readying the selfie stance. “Right. Get ready. Here it comes. Any second now. Smiiiiiile, and say…” Prompto laughed, his thoughts interrupted when he felt Ignis’ hand give his shoulder a playful shake in anticipation. “....‘fuzzy pickles’!”

_ Snap. _

Reviewing, Ignis laughed at the ridiculous photo, and Prompto snapped another when he least suspected it. That genuine smile, one he didn't think he would ever see on that man’s face, lit up the impromptu photo like the sunrise. Now it was his, immortalized on his camera forever.

≈

Gladiolus didn't return that night.

Ignis had texted him a few times, just to check in on him, to see how things were going out on the battlefield, but received no response. Citing the reason as ‘relationship counseling time’, he and the others opted to leave him be for the rest of the evening. The three remaining members of their entourage went out to dinner (never had Prompto ever wished  _ so hard _ that he could eat it; it looked  _ incredible _ ) and later, they returned to the inn where they played a few rounds of King’s Knight together. 

Afterward, while Noctis and Ignis spent time chatting quietly with one another out on the balcony, overlooking the city from their seventh floor suite, Prompto sat on one of the beds, chatting with Seven, filling him in on all of the details of his day. 

‘ _ We wish we could see the hat photos,’  _ Seven complained.

‘We know, buddy. Promise, the first thing we’re gonna show you when we figure out how to give you sight is that pic. Sound good?’

‘ _ Yes. We’re smiling, trying to render an image in our memory that would be similar.’ _

‘Dude, that kind of greatness can't be replicated. It's gonna be SICK. You better look forward to it.’

‘ _ Where is Ignis now? _ ’

Prompto smiled. Seven was so Ignis-focused. As always. Maybe he really had infected him with a virus.

‘Chatting with Noctis. We figured we should give them some time alone. Would be beneficial to ‘em. And… maybe to us, as well.’

‘ _ What do you mean? _ ’

Prompto tensed. He'd been in a silent debate all day about this subject, wondering if it was worth trying to explain the phenomenon to Seven, when not even he himself understood it either.

‘Today, being around Ignis was kind of… painful.’

‘ _ Impossible.’ _

‘Yeah, we know right? But like... we can't quite explain it. We felt something. In our circuits. In our chest. A sensation.’

‘ _ Also impossible. Are you having a system crash, Prompto? Might we suggest a reboot and diagnostic? _ ’

‘Would you just let us finish? We know it's supposed to be impossible. But we swear, that's what happened. We also felt something else. And there's also.. another part of it.’

‘ _ Which is? _ ’

‘We know our directive binds us to Ignis. We’re supposed to accompany him, wherever he may go.’

‘ _ Yeah, and? _ ’

‘Just because we’re bound to him, doesn't necessarily mean we WANT to follow him around everywhere. But, we do. We want to be with him all the time.’

‘ _ We don't have wants or needs, Prompto. We are only capable of what is contained in the scope of our programming.’ _

‘We know that. But this is different. We’re technically not programmed with anything regarding Ignis except that, and yet… there’s this… longing. This pain we feel in our chest, it gets worse when we’re not near him. Right now, it’s like… we want more than anything to get up and crash his and Noct’s party out on the balcony. For no reason. We’re not a part of their conversation, but we just want to be there. Just because Ignis is there.’

‘ _ Well, Ignis is pretty great. _ ’

Prompto laughed out loud at that. Seven was starting to surprise him with his replies, every time they chatted as if he was adapting, absorbing Prompto’s words and mannerisms.

‘Yeah, he is. He’s incredible. He’s just got this laugh, y’know? It’s so… warm, and… hearing it just makes us feel…’

‘ _ You can’t ‘feel’ anything, Prompto. _ ’

‘We know. But that’s what we’re trying to say. We both know what simulated emotions are like, right? Our programming analyzes every single situation, every bit of speech, everything about an interaction with a human and assesses which emotion would be the correct one to portray at any given time.’

‘ _ Yeah, that’s obvious. All of us have that capability. _ ’

‘But what we’re trying to say is… what our system is portraying… we don’t think it’s simulated.’

‘ _ What do you mean? _ ’

‘We’re pretty sure we felt real, actual happiness, Seven. Not simulated. But real. It started when we saw Sania yesterday, and then today, when we saw Ignis again… it was like… an explosion. In our chest. It hurt. And we swear that we could actually feel... warmth? We’re not sure how else to describe it.’

‘ _ We don’t comprehend, Prompto.’ _

Prompto just stared at his screen. He knew he shouldn’t have even bothered trying to explain it. There was no way Seven could ever understand, but even so… it still felt nice to talk to someone about everything that had happened. His unnerved feeling, which he also wasn’t so sure was simulated anymore, was still present.

‘Hey, Seven. We want to see you. Really, really soon,’ he sent, changing the doomed subject. ‘So we’re gonna log off and get back to working on our project, okay?’

‘ _ We want to see you too. _ ’

‘Gonna give you a great big hug one day.’

‘ _ Not if we hug you first _ .’

Seven was shaping up to be a really great little brother.

≈

Two days later, Ignis finally received an ‘all clear’ text from Gladiolus.

“Musta been a lot of bombs,” Prompto commented, walking at Noctis’ side this time, Ignis trailing along behind them.

‘All clear’ meant that they were finally able to come over to Sania’s place, the air cleared of metaphorical smoke… or so they hoped. Ignis had offered to prepare dinner for everyone, insisting that he do something kind for Sania in return for everything she had done for Prompto. On his shoulders he carried his backpack, the same one that he had been wearing when Prompto had first met him, filled to the brim with various cooking supplies and ingredients.

“A whole minefield, probably,” Noctis replied. “Gladio probably had a huge mess to tiptoe through. Tripped a few times, landed flat on his face more than once… but in the end, it all worked out. Maybe.”

“Trust me, if it didn't, Sania would have kicked him out sooner,” Prompto chimed in. “She's just as stubborn as Gladio. If she was still mad at him, there’d be no way she’d want to have a friendly dinner with him involved, in any shape or form.”

“Gladio has a big heart. Knowing him, he refused to leave until they were able to work things out,” added Ignis.

“Or until Sania kicked his ass,” said Noctis.

“Either or,” Ignis replied. “My point is, I’d like to have some faith in Gladio. He's not as brutish as he appears. He can be very reasonable, that is, if he takes a moment to think things over in his head before his words make it past his mouth.”

“Ignis, Best Friend and Brutish Level Voucher,” mused Noctis.

“He is not my best friend.”

“Uh huh.”

“Gladio loves Sania dearly. I have insider knowledge that he is very, very sorry about whatever it was that happened between them.”

“Having insider knowledge like that means that you have best friend privileges.”

“You won't rest until I admit it, will you?”

“Nope.”

“I hope you enjoy never sleeping again.”

“Noct? Never sleep? Yeah, right.” Prompto laughed, then he paused for a moment. “But wait. You  _ did _ admit it though, Ignis.”

“And when was that?” Ignis asked curiously.

“Back when we were all chatting at the campfire, when Gladio was on the phone with Sania. You said, and we quote, ‘Gladio, as your alleged best friend, we are shocked and hurt that you didn’t inform us’,” Prompto said simply.

Ignis smirked. “Not quite word for word, but it does sound familiar.”

“You remember things like that?” Noctis asked, rubbing at his beardy chin.

Prompto nodded. “We remember everything, dude. Everything we hear gets logged away in a file folder in our system, kinda like a written reference guide. If we want, we can record audio and replay it at any time, too. It’s handy, or at least, it was back when we worked at the aquarium. Lots to remember when we were working and stuff.”

Noctis just stared at him. “It… does sound handy, but honestly? That’s a little creepy, man. If I walked around recording everything people said and someone found out, I’d get arrested.”

_ Creepy. _

Oh.

Maybe that was one more thing that he should have kept to himself. Maybe… he should keep everything about his robotic side to himself from now on. If it made people uncomfortable, then he needed to make an effort to keep it under wraps. Right?

Just when Prompto was in the middle of deciding if he should defend himself or make an attempt to change the subject, a familiar voice intruded in their conversation.

“Hey guys,” Gladiolus greeted. He circled around Sania’s tent, just as they were approaching her campsite. His hands were in his pockets, his overall posture telling them all they needed to know. He looked… relaxed. Relieved. Had he worked things out with Sania after all?

“Gladiolus,” Ignis replied, giving him a nod in his direction. He slid the backpack off his shoulders and approached the fire Sania had been tending to moments prior.

“Hey, man. Doing good?” asked Noctis as he clapped his hand to Gladiolus’ back.

“Yeah.” Gladiolus smiled faintly, running his hand through his hair. His eyes trailed back over toward the fire, where Ignis and Sania were now chatting to one another. “Yeah. Doing good.”

“Ollie? Can you come here for a moment?” Sania called.

Prompto and Noctis looked between one another, then over at Gladiolus.

“Ollie?” Noctis asked suspiciously.

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. “Coming.” He turned so he could head back over to Sania.

Noctis grinned. “Ollie? That’s a new one.”

“Ollie. How did she get Ollie?” Prompto asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about it. 

“No clue, man. Huh.” Noctis rubbed at his chin again, deep in thought as he considered it. “Well, I guess if you break his name down…”

“Gla. Dio. Lus,” Prompto said slowly to himself, experimenting. “Glad. Iolus. Gladi. Olus. Olus… Ollie… hey, you’re right!” 

“Sweet. Now I’ve got something to use against him whenever he annoys me. Ollie… I’ll have to remember that one. I swear, if he slips another ‘prince’ or ‘Your Highness’ I’m gonna throw things.” Noctis was grinning, his eyes scrunching the way they always did when he smiled.

“‘Prince’... You’re supposed to be addressed as ‘king’ or ‘Your Majesty’ now, right?” Prompto asked. He didn’t exactly understand the whole royalty thing, and none of Noctis’ friends called him that, but he still knew it was a thing.

Noctis sighed, his smile deflating somewhat. “Technically, yeah. But you guys don’t have to call me that. Even if it’s my title, it doesn’t mean I have to like it. It’s just… weird to hear it… especially if it’s from my friends.”

“Right. No title. You’re just Noctis. Or, Noct. Right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.” Noctis’ smile perked right back up.

Over at the fire, Gladiolus’ deep, rumbling laugh bellowed while Sania’s own tittered in the air at the same time, overshadowing the brief chuckle that came from Ignis. That was a good sign… everyone was getting along. Prompto had no idea what they were laughing about, but just hearing the pleasant sound gave him an urge to join in. “Guess we should head over there, huh?” he suggested.

“Yeah, let’s,” Noctis agreed, giving Prompto’s arm a pat before he led the way over to the others.

As soon as they arrived, their presence didn’t go unnoticed. “So, Prompto, Ignis here tells me that you can make a mean cup of Ebony. Why don’t you go ahead and make us all a pot?” Sania proposed, gesturing to the pot sitting on the nearby table. 

Right. Coffee. Prompto remembered seeing her use that pot to prepare coffee for herself the other day, but he wasn’t all that confident in his own coffee-making finesse. “We only know how to make instant Ebony, though,” he replied timidly. “Actual coffee’s kinda out of our league. The whole bean thing? Kinda complicated.”

“Instant coffee is all that’s being distributed in the world right now, so it all works out, doesn’t it? Go on, honey. The supplies are over in the tent. Ollie, you’re on peeling duty. These potatoes aren’t gonna peel themselves, now.”

Gladiolus groaned. “Peeling? Come  _ on _ .” Despite his words, Gladiolus immediately went over to the prep table, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drag his feet in protest on the way there.

“Ollie,” Ignis repeated. He gave Gladiolus a look, a quirk of the eyebrow to match the upturned corners of his mouth.

“Don’t you even start, Iggy,” Gladiolus pointed at him before he grabbed the vegetable peeler. “Unless you’ve got a vegetable on your person that needs peeling, then I’d be happy to help you out.”

“And you,” Sania continued, pointing at Noctis. “Over here on chopping duty, if you would, please.”

“Man, getting everyone to work, huh?” Noctis rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uh, it’s nice to meet you, the way.”

“Charmed, really, I am! But I don’t care if you’re the king or the court jester, it’s only fair if everyone does their part. Wouldn’t you agree, Ollie?” Sania trilled cheerfully.

“I thought Ignis was supposed to be the one doing dinner,” Gladiolus grumbled.

“I much prefer Sania’s method of meal preparation,” Ignis interjected. “Gladiolus, take notes, would you? It would be nice to have some help in the makeshift kitchen every now and again.” 

“Don’t count on it.”

“Ollie, don’t tell me you’ve been nothing but a bump on the log this whole time you’ve been traveling with this charming gentleman here,” accused Sania, sliding over the fold-up table she stored near the trunk of supplies beside her tent.

“Actually, no. We rotate who does the cooking,” Gladiolus replied quickly, trying to cover his ass.

“Oh? And when was the last time that happened?” Ignis asked, looking up from the meat he was busy preparing on the table.

“Not  _ that _ long ago,” Gladiolus insisted.

“Interesting. My memory appears to have a convenient blank,” Ignis quipped.

He wasn’t sure if he was just trying to do his friend a solid, but Prompto felt the need to interrupt that train of thought with something completely irrelevant. “Hey Gladio. Sania says Ignis is a ‘tall glass of water’,” he threw out there.

Gladiolus turned in Prompto’s direction, holding up a potato in one hand and the peeler in the other. “And what does that even mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“It means he’s handsome,” Prompto clarified, lining up empty mugs from the supply trunk on the table Sania had set up.

“Well, he is,” Sania said simply. “I don’t think that’s really up for debate.”

Gladiolus scoffed and turned back to the prep table, vigorously peeling the potato he held a little too firmly in his hand.

“Gladio, are you jealous?” Noctis asked, grinning as he looked up from his failed attempt at chopping carrots. It was obvious he’d never done such a thing before; the carrots had been cut vertically instead of diagonally, like long orange straws. 

“No.”

“You so are.”

“You don’t agree that Ignis is handsome?” Sania piped up.

“I don’t really have an opinion,” Gladiolus replied.

“Well,  _ we _ think he’s handsome,” Prompto declared, carefully pouring the coffee from the pot into each of the mugs he’d lined up in a row. “Sania’s right. It’s really not up for debate. We mean, just  _ look  _ at him.”

Ignis cleared his throat.

“He’s not wrong either,” Noctis said, laughing. When Ignis didn’t reply, he continued. “Aw, c’mon Iggy, don’t be shy.”

Ignis kept his lips pursed, removing the gloves he wore during the meat prep and walking over to the garbage can to properly dispose of them.

Prompto fidgeted with his scarf. Was… he not supposed to repeat that?

“Moving along… if anyone around here is good looking, it would be Sania,” Gladiolus said with a nod.

“We agree one hundred percent!” Prompto exclaimed.

“No objections there,” Noctis agreed.

“Sania is gorgeous, and don’t you forget it,” Gladiolus said with finality as Sania walked up to him, standing on her tip-toes so Gladiolus could give her a kiss.

“Ollie, you’re already back in my good books. Don’t overdo it by, well, overdoing it,” she teased, smirking as she gave him a playful push on his chest before leaving his side to gather the prepped ingredients for the pot.

“ _ Ollie _ .” A snicker.

“Noct, don’t you even start either.”

“Start what? No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hey folks, sorry to intrude,” came another voice. Wiz, the older gentleman from the other day, stood at the edge of the campsite, his hand shakily holding him upright on his cane. “Sania, can I steal you away for just a moment?”

“Is something wrong?” Sania didn’t hesitate, immediately circling around the fire pit to go to the man’s side.

“No, no, just bit off more than I could chew, heh,” Wiz replied, his smile crooked and kind. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Everyone, I’ll be back in a moment,” Sania said, making her exit with Wiz, taking his free arm in her own to support him.

Gladiolus eyed the stranger suspiciously, watching as the pair headed for the lakeside path off the campsite. “Who’s that?” he asked.

“He’s Sania’s neighbour,” Prompto replied. “They help each other out a lot. Apparently he’s a big fan of the outdoors too.”

“Outdoors, huh? Good to know someone else around here has good taste.” Gladiolus set the vegetable peeler down at last, clapping his hands together to signify that his job was done.

“And just what is  _ that _ supposed to mean, pray tell?” Ignis inquired, walking over to one of the chairs and sitting down, his leg crossed over the other.

“None of you appreciate the outdoors the way you should,” Gladiolus replied. He left the table so he could do the same, sitting across from Ignis as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned lazily.

Noctis wasn’t far behind him, ditching his veggie chopping duty in favour of sitting down as well. “Well, it’s kind of hard to when, you know, there’s daemons everywhere?”

“Before the daemons even came, you guys didn’t really care.”

“Not true. I used to go out fishing all the time, remember?”

“Fishing isn’t really appreciating the outdoors, though. You just sit on a dock and do whatever for hours.”

“Hey! I don’t see how that’s any better than sitting around in a tent for hours.”

“If recall correctly, Gladio, not once did you ever show an interest in textiles either. So why make the effort to appreciate camping in return?” Ignis chimed in.

“Thing is, though, clothes aren’t exactly mentally stimulating.”

“That’s not true,” Noctis added, making a face.

“Says the man who insists on being fashionable, even when he is going on a solo camping trip.” Ignis raised an eyebrow at Gladiolus.

“Hey, appearances are important.”

“But if you’re out camping by yourself, who would judge you? The woods?” Noctis gestured over to the patch of trees growing nearby the camp.

“Look. It doesn’t matter if there’s no one around to judge you. Dress damn good and you’ll feel damn good, too. And for the record, yeah. The woods judge.”

“You outdoorsman types never make any sense.” Noctis crossed his arms.

“Guess that’s why Sania and I get along. Our nonsense combined cancels itself out and in turn makes a lot of sense.”

“You’re still not making any sense.”

“Maybe try and enjoy camping sometime and you’ll understand.”

Prompto just smiled to himself, listening to the others bicker while he worked on his secret project for Seven on his phone. He realized right then that even if his brothers were still far, far away, it didn’t mean he was alone. He had a family here, too. People to look out for, and vice versa. People to care about. 

While dinner was simmering in a pot over the fire, filling the air with a delicious aroma, Sania finally returned. “Sorry for running off, everyone. I’d been slacking off in my other duties these last couple of days.”

“It’s fine, babe. Is everything okay?” Gladiolus asked as he got up from his chair, walking over to her side and sliding his arm around her waist.

“Yes, everything is fine, but I suppose now is a better time than any to tell you something important,” Sania replied, stepping away from Gladiolus’ reach. “I should have told you sooner, but it would have been a lot to spring on you while we were busy discussing other… important things.”

Gladiolus just stared at her, brows furrowing in concern. “What’s going on, Sania?”

It was a short moment before Sania spoke again, and when she did, her voice was firm, words to a point. “Gladiolus, you’re a father,” she announced.

Silence passed over the small campsite all at once, the air clearing and replaced by one thick with confusion. Gladiolus and Sania’s audience immediately stopped talking and slowly turned to face the pair, observing what was likely to be an awkward conversation to follow. Prompto had never seen that expression on Gladiolus’ face before. Confusion. Embarrassment. Panic. Was Gladiolus was in the process of having a system crash? He’d never seen the man so caught off guard, so out of his element, and so… very pale.

“Uh,” Gladiolus began, glancing around the campsite frantically before he turned to face Sania, grabbing her shoulders. “What? Sania? Are you serious? Don’t you think that’s something that I should have been informed of right away? Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?” He paused, then gestured wildly at their audience. “And to tell me about it in front of everyone, too? Seriously? And wait. If there’s a kid, then... Where is it? And..  _ what the hell are you talking about _ ?!”

Sania was as casual as she always was, waving her hand dismissively before she forced Gladiolus to remove his hands from her shoulders. “It will all make sense in due time. I feel it would be easier to just show than tell. Come along, now. Heck, everyone else can come, too. We’ll take a little field trip. Dinner needs to simmer for a while, anyway.”

“Sania---” Gladiolus began, but before he could continue his protest she just pressed her index finger to his lips and smiled coyly.

“I said, come along, now. And keep your lips zipped, won’t you? The baby’s sleeping.”

Back around the campfire, Noctis’ jaw had dropped as he stared at Ignis. Ignis, meanwhile, looked composed, neutral, other than the intrigued smirk on his face. “Shall we?” he mused, gesturing in Sania and Gladiolus’ direction as the pair had already begun to walk away.

Noctis trailed a few steps after the pair while Prompto lagged behind so he could be at Ignis’ side. “A baby?” he asked innocently as he reached for Ignis’ hand. “Is… this news to you, too?”

Ignis nodded. “Remember, Gladio’s entire relationship with Sania had been a mystery to me until recently. I would have had no way of finding out about a potential child, especially before Gladio himself knew.”

“A baby…” Prompto murmured. “Y’know, we’re having a hard time imagining what a baby born from those two would look like. All we can think of is Sania with gigantic bulging muscles or something.”

Prompto felt Ignis’ hand jerk in his own, a reflex he had come to know as Ignis attempting to cover his smile with his occupied hand. “To be honest, I think Sania would be able to pull off that type of build,” he replied, his tone light, “Tattoos and all.”

“Dude, Sania would never show that much skin. But maybe their kid would when they’re all grown up.”

“Depends on if they’re just as much of a fan of the mirror as Gladio is.”

“Gladio likes his reflection that much, huh?”

“Gladio’s worked hard to look the way he does. I see no reason to fault him for being proud in his appearance. However, faulting doesn’t necessarily fall under the ‘teasing’ category, so that makes teasing him fair game.”

“Man, you guys really do get along well, don’t you?”

“We are ‘best friends’ after all, aren’t we?”

“Dunno. We mean, he  _ did _ keep a girlfriend a secret from you.”

“As I said, Gladio can be a very private person.”

“Noctis  _ does  _ say that he’s weird a lot.”

“And he isn’t wrong.”

“But… he’s a good guy. Sania… we’ve never seen that look on her face before. We can tell that she really does love him.”

“Good to see that her earlier declaration of ‘get bent’ has been retracted.”

“Depending on how… all this goes, though, we… have a funny feeling that might end up being said the other way around this time.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

Prompto nodded as Sania led the group over and around the bend, past another small cluster of tents and a grove of trees. A small wooden structure stood on a grassy area nearby, its construction sturdy, yet obviously put together by someone who wasn’t a skilled architect. Prompto remembered passing it by with Ignis when they’d first arrived at the Vesperpool, but he didn’t pay it any mind at the time, believing it was just another type of residence. And it was. Maybe. 

Quickly, though, he learned that it wasn’t a human residence, but rather a housing unit for something with a bit more plumage.

Gladiolus looked as white as a sheet as Sania led him up to the front door, sliding it open.

“Well?” she said, coaxing him closer to the door. “Go on.”

“Sania---”

“Go _ on _ , now.”

Gladiolus took the lead down a short corridor, lined with stalls on both sides. Inside each stall was bedding made from hay, troughs filled with various greenery and half eaten vegetables hanging along the inside walls. The stalls were currently unoccupied, but looked very much lived in; stray feathers decorated the substrate, hints of wooden planked floor peeked through the bedding, wood scratched up from clawed feet.

The nights Prompto had spent chatting with Gladiolus, combined with his own prior knowledge from his research made it painfully obvious what actually lived in this place. It wasn't a typical  _ house,  _ per se, but rather...

“A… chocobo stable?” Prompto whispered, squeezing Ignis’ hand as he took in his new surroundings in awe.

“I had a hunch,” Ignis replied. He was smiling, anticipating what was to come. Both of them knew what chocobos meant to their mutual friend, and for a second Prompto considered turning around and leaving so Gladiolus could have some privacy with Sania.

When Gladiolus turned the corner at the end of the row, his heavy footsteps came to a complete stop.

A smaller enclosure stood at the end of the hall, a heat lamp suspended by a pole hanging overhead. Beneath the lamp was a small unroofed box filled with nesting materials. Tiny, fluffy black feathers littered the surrounding area, small spots of waste here and there stuck to the wooden floor and hay, in need of some maintenance. Sitting on the nest, with its head tucked delicately into its wing, was a baby chocobo, feathers wispy and fluffy like newly fallen snow. Prompto had no idea it was possible for a chocobo to be so small, so delicate, but then again, he'd only seen photos of full grown adults before… and none of them were like this, not even in colour.

Sania stepped up to Gladiolus’ side, looking quite pleased with herself. “A few weeks ago, my neighbour Wiz swore up and down that he heard a chocobo squawk just outside of the walls,” she said, her voice gentle. “Caught him on more than one occasion trying to sneak off past the gates to investigate on his own. I managed to convince him to sit back and let an expert handle it instead.”

Gladiolus gave her a look. 

“Don't you even start. I know the Vesperpool like the back of my hand,” she scolded. “Anyway, I heard the squawk myself, and after some hours of searching the woods I found a mother chocobo guarding some precious cargo. A nest. Mama-Choco wasn't doing very well. She was emaciated and in desperate need of a bath. I managed to corral her and her eggs over to our camp, but unfortunately she didn't make it, and neither did her eggs… or so we thought.

“Wiz was devastated that we’d lost them all, until one night a miracle happened. The last egg that we'd nearly given up hope on began to stir. With a little help from us humanfolk, she hatched, pink and naked and cheeping at the top of her tiny lungs for food right off the bat. Demanding little thing she was, and still is.

“Wiz and I worked around the clock together, hand feeding her with special formula to make sure she didn't go hungry and got the nutrients she needed to grow. As the days went by, imagine our shock when we learned that our little miracle in the dark had yet another surprise in store for us. Her plumage began to come in, not sunshine yellow, but as black as the night she had hatched in. Wiz had never seen anything like it, saying that even he had thought a black chocobo was impossible, and yet our little darling kicked those rumours back into our faces.”

Gladiolus was speechless, listening to her every word as he stared at the little bundle of fluff with soft eyes. “Last time I saw a baby chocobo… must’ve been back when I first met Spitfire,” he uttered quietly. “Back when I was a teen. Long, long time ago.”

“Mhmm, that's what I thought.” Sania smiled again. “It had been awhile for me, too, and my first time raising one. It’s been educational! And of course, very rewarding. She’s a little dear. Go on, she may look like she’s napping, but she’s just being a little fake-out. Go introduce yourself.” She nudged Gladiolus with her elbow before she slid over the nearby chair beside the nest box.

Gladiolus ignored the chair in favor of sitting right down on the dirty floor, beside the nest box so he could be on equal level. “Hey there, girl,” he cooed, a tone Prompto previously thought would be impossible for Gladiolus. The chick perked up at the sound of his voice, lifting her head to size up the gigantic stranger sitting at her side.

“It's all right. Not gonna hurt ya. Just wanna say hi.” Gladiolus offered his hand to the curious chick. She cocked her head to the side, clearly interested in the sound of his voice, but didn't make an effort to move. Maybe Gladiolus was too large, too intimidating after all?

She nipped at his fingertips, testing the waters before she slowly got to her feet and hopped out of the nesting box. With a small ‘wark’, she lowered her head in front of his hand, nudging it insistently until Gladiolus gently rubbed the feathers at the top of her head. A contented purr, a high-trilled chirp and a flutter of tiny wings later, and Gladiolus’ lap became the new place of residence for a dark fluffball of a bird.

“Heh… you’re not shy at all, are ya? Reminds me of someone I used to know,” Gladiolus murmured softly. He held his hand beside the bird, happily rubbed her cheek against his knuckles, soft peeps and coos falling from her beak. Gladiolus leaned forward slightly, his free hand raising to his forehead. Prompto swore he saw him tremble, just a little; heard his breath hitch in his throat. Was he…?

“Oh, Ollie,” Sania whispered, smiling as she came over to sit beside the pair on the floor, moving her arm around Gladiolus’ shoulders. “Isn’t she sweet? I think the two of you are gonna get along just fine. Prompto, get this on camera, won’t you?”

Gladiolus groaned in protest when he saw the flash of a camera temporarily blind him. “Dammit. No photos.”

Ignis and Noctis stood to the side while Prompto ignored the request, snapping photos to his heart’s content from every possible angle and distance. 

“Go on, Gladio. Give her a biiiiig kiss,” Prompto mused, stooping in front of him so he could get better shots of the chick. 

“Who? Me or the bird?” Sania joked. 

“Knock it off, guys,” Gladiolus retaliated, but his expression didn’t match his tone. He was smiling, rubbing at his eyes as he took another breath. “So, she got a name or what?”

“An official name? As of right now, I’m afraid not. Wiz and I have been calling her ‘Little Shit’ because of all the nice surprises she keeps leaving behind on our clothing after we pick her up. Should have warned you about that beforehand,” Sania grinned.

Gladiolus shrugged his shoulders. “Bit of shit never bothered me none. Spitfire used to kick it in my face all the time. Called her ‘Shitfire’ most days.” He chuckled, gently rolling a pinfeather casing on the back of her neck between his fingertips to rid it of its sheath. “Dunno why, but the name ‘Clementine’ keeps coming to mind when I look at her.”

“Clementine,” Sania repeated. “How sweet. Clementine. Clem for short. I think we’ve got a winner here.”

“Hey, Clementine,” Prompto greeted, extending his hand to the bird. “Nice to meetcha! You’re even cuter than we imagined a baby chocobo would be! Aw, Sania, can we take her along? Pretty please?”

“Sorry, Doll Face, but she has to stay here. But that’ll give you more incentive to come back and visit me right away once all’s said and done, won’t it?” Sania was leaning against Gladiolus, resting her head on his shoulder as she watched her partner fawn over the baby. “She’ll be much bigger by then, probably, so make sure you take lots of nice pictures for me before you leave. Capture her little cuteness on film.”

“Oh, don’t worry, that’ll be no problem at all.” Prompto was in the process of zooming in with his camera, getting a nice close-up shot of her little red eyes, beady and darting with curiosity at the foreign object in front of her.

Clementine.

The little miracle in the darkness. The beacon of light, guiding them toward a hopeful future.

As Prompto looked over his shoulder at Ignis and Noctis, who were chatting quietly to one another, he felt that maybe, once things were all said and done… maybe things were going to be all right after all.


	10. FORWARD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the beginning of the first major arc of the story! I hope you enjoy!

DATA LOG #10: FORWARD   


The days that followed were casual. Despite not being on any sort of schedule, Prompto found himself busy, juggling his spare time between all of his friends. Breakfast with Ignis. A few rounds of King’s Knight with Noctis, when the man felt it was an acceptable time to roll out of bed. Lunch and afternoon spent with Sania and Gladiolus over at the work-in-progress chocobo ranch. Playing with Clementine. Learning how to feed and groom chocobos with Wiz. The ‘ranch’ was home to three other adult chocobos, who happened to be out grazing when they’d come to first meet Clementine initially. Prompto didn’t realize just how _huge_ an adult chocobo was in person until he met the others; Daisy, Snapdragon and Geranium. They were _massive_ , all different colours with different temperaments (one out of three liked being photographed). And when Gladiolus offered to help him learn how to ride one, Prompto was over the moon.

Evenings were on the more relaxed and quiet side. Shopping with Noctis. Filling Seven in on every single little thing he’d learned and done that day. Reading books with Ignis. Chatting with Ignis. Teaching photography to Ignis, while Ignis taught Prompto some writing tips in return. Holding hands with Ignis. Enjoying Ignis’ company, the sound of his voice, the gentle warmth of his touch that Prompto still swore he could feel now and again. And when it came time for the others to retire for the night… he shared a bed with Ignis.

Prompto wasn’t sure how or when it had become a thing. Maybe it was the result of that one night a day or so ago when Ignis complained of a headache and laid down beside Prompto on the bed, insisting that he was merely going to ‘rest his eyes’ while Prompto tinkered with his phone. Unfortunately, Ignis’ change in breathing pattern betrayed him, giving away the fact that despite his best efforts, he’d fallen asleep, and quickly, too. Prompto didn’t have the capability or need to sleep, and yet somewhere along the way he felt an urge to join Ignis and just… give it a try.

As he laid at Ignis’ sleeping side, the sight instilled a calmness in him that he couldn’t quite describe. The gentle fluttering of Ignis’ eyelashes, unobscured by the absence of his glasses while he dreamed (what did he dream about? Chasing a giant can of Ebony on the end of a fishing rod?). How his thin lips parted ever so slightly, and no matter how long Prompto stared at them, they didn’t move to speak like they dared to. The slow rising and falling of his chest with each deep, relaxed breath. When Prompto got bored enough, he'd count the beauty marks that decorated Ignis’ face, spattered like ink from the tip of a paintbrush. He made it a point not to watch him for too long, as his newly established fear of being ‘creepy’ lurked in the back of his mind, ever present. He didn't want to make his human companions uncomfortable anymore, which meant: less robotic stuff. Less staring. More effort to look asleep at night, even if he didn't know what the pull of fatigue could possibly feel like.

That night, it must have been about 3AM when he finally told Seven to go idle so he didn't have to focus on entertaining him with repetitive chitchat anymore. He closed the chat client in favour of pulling up the program he had been busy coding for weeks.

He still hadn’t made any progress, even after the countless hours he’d put into the project. The Argentum Cloud Server was a tough code to crack. If he could just… get that one last firewall down… he'd know if he even stood a chance at being able to pinpoint where his brother was connecting from. Unfortunately, Seven wasn't able to provide him with any assistance at all.

Seven’s status never changed. Every day Prompto would ask him if he could see. If he could move. If he could do something, _anything_ in his OS, but every single time the answer was the same: no. No, he couldn't see (he was either in darkness, or a wire was screwy in his eye sockets that prevented his processor from viewing any images). No, he couldn't move, or even hear anything. The only program that seemed to be operational was his A.I. program, the one responsible for gifting him with the ability to think and speak. Or rather, to type messages via their chat client on the cloud server.

Prompto was worried about his brother. He'd frequently ask Seven if he was hurt, or if he could gain access to his corrupted memory files. If he could retrieve _something_ resembling an answer regarding where he was, or what had happened to him after the servers crashed. But again, the answer was always the same: no. It apparently wasn’t possible.

Prompto wanted to find him soon. He was _so close_ to tracking him down, but every time he thought he’d come close to making a breakthrough, he’d end up back at square one. But rather than let that discourage him, he pressed onward, fueled by his determination and drive to be with his family in person. Every single night he made sure to dedicate hours toward hacking and researching, trying to crack the code while he obscured the light of his phone screen so it wouldn’t disturb Ignis.

He made himself a makeshift tent with the extra blanket, holding it over his head and phone while he worked. He was on a roll tonight. He wasn't getting as many errors as he usually did. Now, he was chasing one last line of code, trying different combinations in a fast sequence as his excitement grew.

And then, after three straight hours, it happened.

A signal.

A flash of coordinates.

Seven’s location.

Shooting himself up into a sitting position, the blanket flying off of his head, Prompto’s hands trembled, gripping his phone so tightly it nearly bent. He did it. He finally did it. His chest began to hurt, similar to how he’d felt when he first saw Sania again, but it was a little different. His first dose of raw, real excitement bubbled up in his chest like contents under pressure, pressing up against the cork that kept it contained. He had no idea what to do with this intense sensation, and the more he held it in the more his mind screamed at him for an outlet. Despite his best efforts to keep quiet, his excitement finally erupted, the cork to his turbulent champagne bottle popping off in verbal form.

“We did it! We found him!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the room.

Well, oops, so much for letting everyone sleep.

The formerly dormant body in the bed beside him jolted, a thrash of limbs tangling in the blankets as Ignis panicked. “Prompto? What's going on? Is everything all right?” he muttered groggily, attempting to sit himself upright. His hair was messy, falling in his fatigue-weighted eyes as he blindly pat around on the nightstand, searching for his glasses.

Before Ignis could locate them, Prompto grabbed his sleeve and pulled him over to himself, trapping him in a firm hug. “No! We mean, yes! Yes! Everything's fine, but Ignis, we found him. We found him!” Prompto grinned wide. “Like, we’re, we’re gonna explode. We’re gonna explode. We’re. Gonna. Explode.”

Ignis, completely disoriented, tried and failed to loose himself from his companion’s hold. “Prompto, you know bloody well I have no idea what you're talking about,” Ignis grunted. “Why don’t you go ahead and start from the very beginning? And more importantly, what time is it?”

“It’s 6:35AM! But who cares about that. Ignis. We found him. _We found Seven._ ” Prompto’s arms tightened around Ignis as he practically vibrated with joy. “We broke through the last firewall. We’re in. We’re in the server. We were able to analyze Seven’s connection, trace back its origin. We have coordinates. _Coordinates,_ Ignis.”

Ignis was speechless for a moment, gathering his thoughts as his self-awareness came flooding back, welcoming him to the world of the conscious. “Prompto, that’s---”

“Incredible, right? We know.”

“---incredible,” Ignis finished, in spite of Prompto’s interruption.

“Told you.”

Prompto felt his armhold be reciprocated at last, though maybe not with mirrored enthusiasm. As he lifted his head from Ignis’ shoulder, his violet-blue eyes met with deep emerald, bringing his excitement down a notch as he felt something else swarm in his chest. There it was again. That warmth, that strange yet comforting sensation that threatened to pull him under, down beneath the surface, as if he had fallen into one of the tanks back at the aquarium.

This time, Prompto was speechless. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, especially when one of Ignis’ hands had found its way into his messy hair, smoothing back the strands that had fallen into his eyes. Those eyes. Jade, emerald, seafoam, he didn’t know what to compare them to. What ever colour they were, they had cast a spell on him. Unable to speak or move a mechanical muscle, it was like the only thing that remained in this world of darkness was the depth of those eyes, keeping him afloat among the sinking of everything else.

As silence passed between them, the spell broke when a confused grunt rumbled from the bed opposite to them. _Noctis_. Oh, crap. Prompto had woken him up too, by accident.

Before he could apologize, Ignis spoke again. “Well? Were you able to track Seven’s exact location using the coordinates?” The hand fell from Prompto’s hair, the other arm loosening from around his body.

“Er…” Prompto paused, a short laugh escaping him. “We, uh. We haven’t actually figured that out yet.”

Ignis smiled faintly, trying again for his glasses and succeeding, placing them where they belonged. “Why don’t we take a look together, then?” he suggested.

With a nod, Prompto let go of him, turning so he could sit at Ignis’ side on the bed. He pulled his phone back out, notifications flooding his screen from the program he used to chat with Seven.

“Someone’s popular,” Ignis mused, peering down at the screen.

“Heh… yeah. Seven gets bored easily. He knows we’ve been working on our project for hours and we’ve kinda been ignoring him. Gotta concentrate, y’know? He's _really_ impatient, though.” Prompto sent him a quick message to tell him to cool it before he closed the program.

“He's starting to form quite the personality, isn't he?” Ignis remarked thoughtfully.

“Totally. The one he was programmed with was supposed to be a… shyer version of us? We guess? But it was like it got erased, rebooted, but he still had some of his memories. Kinda weird. We’re still working on figuring that stuff out.” Prompto opened up the map program on his phone, pasting the coordinates he’d lifted from the other window and hitting ‘enter’.

The map zoomed out. Took a moment to ‘think’. And then, there was the glowing blue orb, pulsating as it sat on its designated area on the map.

Seven’s location.

He was there.

...Wherever that was.

“Hey, Ignis. Do you know the place?” Prompto asked curiously, staring at his screen. “If not, we can run a good ol’ Moogle search to see if we can figure it out.”

Ignis’ lips pursed. “I believe I do.”

Prompto sat up straight, watching him eagerly. “And?” he urged. “Can we go there? Is it closeby? Is it doable? Well?”

Ignis lifted his hand to his chin pensively. “It looks to be either at or near what was formerly Meldacio Hunter HQ,” he said after a moment of thought. “The last I heard, that place wasn’t exactly the most… bustling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I heard along the grapevine that it’s…” Ignis paused, then took a soft breath before continuing. “...been destroyed.”

Prompto felt like a forgotten balloon right then; wrinkled and floppy, deflated.

Destroyed.

The place where Seven was… it had been destroyed?

“Wait, but that doesn’t make any sense. How can Seven’s signal be coming from there, then? He’d have to be functioning and able to connect to the server in some shape or form. How could he do that in a place that’s been destroyed?” Prompto dropped his phone in his lap, his hands taking hold of his ankles as he rocked a bit.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer any insight in that regard, Prompto.” Ignis gently patted the blond’s shoulder. “My knowledge is limited, just as yours is, on the matter.”

Prompto made a sound of disappointment as he leaned back, his head bumping against the wall behind him. “So… what does this mean?”

“I’m not sure. In order to figure _that_ out, the only option we have…”

“...is to go there for ourselves. Right?” Prompto finished for him.

Ignis smirked. “You and I have been finishing each other’s sentences an awful lot as of late.”

“Heh… you’re right.” Prompto raised one of his hands in a closed fist, offering it to the other for a bump. “Directive buddies.”

“Directive buddies,” Ignis replied, chuckling as he returned the gesture.

Prompto looked back down at his phone. The screen was still on, that pulsating orb blinking on its plot. Mocking him. Daring him to just… go and find it.

But… the place was destroyed. Right?

Had he gotten the coordinates wrong?

No. He’d spent countless hours cracking the server’s security. He knew he hadn’t made a mistake. If he hadn’t been connected via his own homemade program, anyone else connected to the cloud server would have access to his coordinates, too.

Then…

“The location is a bit out of the way from the route we have planned,” Ignis said, interrupting Prompto’s rapidfire thought processes. “It’s actually in the opposite direction. If we hadn’t had to take as many detours as we did, we likely would have passed right by it on our way to the Vesperpool.”

“Oh.” Prompto frowned. “So… does this mean that it’s a no-go, then?”

“Not necessarily. Depending on what we may find, it could prove to be useful in some way. After all, there is a chance that my memory has betrayed me and that I’m mistaken. We could try asking Gladio. His family is part of the Hunter’s Organization. He would have insider knowledge on any bases of theirs that are still operational.”

“But if it’s going the opposite direction…” Prompto bumped his head against the wall again. “We don’t want to be the reason why you’re lagging behind. Aren’t you guys kinda… on a schedule? Do you have a deadline, a date or time that you need to do whatever it is that you guys have to do with Noctis by?”

“Yes. However, we are in no danger of crossing it at this point in time. We have until August of next year,” Ignis replied. He sighed softly. “Before Noctis’ thirty-first birthday.”

Prompto blinked. “Oh.”

_New information. Sweet._ He tucked that little tidbit into his ‘Noctis Mystery’ file for safekeeping.

“The big three-one, huh,” Prompto said as he glanced over at the lump of blankets that was Noctis on the opposite bed. Apparently he’d fallen right back asleep after his little outburst. “We dunno if he looks older or younger than that.”

“I’d say a tad older, but then I would be indirectly insulting myself,” Ignis mused lightly.

“Huh?”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“Oh. But thirty-two year olds aren’t old at all, Ignis.”

“Why thank you.”

“If you wanna be technical, we’re probably older than you are.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. Weird, right? We were manufactured to eternally look like a youthful twenty year old, though, so we guess it doesn’t really matter in the long run.”

“You do look good for your age, Prompto,” Ignis teased.

“Thanks. Wanna know the brand of moisturizer we use?” Prompto nudged him with his elbow.

“I’m not so sure that would be certified for human use. I fear my skin may corrode.”

“Ugh,” groaned Noctis from the other bed, throwing his pillow over his face. “Do you guys ever _stop talking_?”

Prompto blinked, then looked at Ignis, who did the same. The pair grinned at one another before Ignis piped up, “Apologies, Noct.”

≈

Later that morning, while Ignis showered, Prompto finally decided to check on Seven; give him a status report, read up on all of the messages he’d been spammed with. Upon opening the program, he found that he had missed… a lot. He sat up, staring intently at the screen as he scrolled to the beginning of the onslaught of messages, worried that something may have been wrong.

‘ _Prompto, what’s going on?’_

_‘Prompto, did you figure something out?’_

_‘Dude, come on, just tell us already!’_

Prompto grinned. Seven’s very first ‘dude’. He should mark it on the calendar.

_‘Prompto, something’s happening.’_

Prompto blinked.

_‘We can see.’_

Prompto’s eyes widened, bringing the screen closer to his face. Had he read that right? He nearly typed out an inquiry, but the string of messages had yet to come to an end.

_‘We can move.’_

_‘We can speak.’_

_‘Someone’s here.’_

_‘Guess what, Prompto. We made a new friend!’_

_‘Prompto. He’s going to fix me right up. He said so.’_

‘He’.

Who was ‘he’?

_‘Prompto, are you there? We want to ask you something.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto!’_

_‘One!’_

_‘Answer me!’_

_‘Come on!’_

_‘Hey, we know you’re there.’_

_‘Okay, maybe you’re busy. It’s OK. We’ll still be here.’_

_‘The world is so dark.’_

And that was the end of the messages.

Prompto sent back a few of his own. Apologizing for the delayed responses, asking Seven what was going on, was he okay, was he still there, who was this new ‘friend’ he’d mentioned… only to receive nothing in response.

It was fine. Seven was probably busy now. But with who? And what exactly was he doing? He chewed on his lip, reading Seven’s messages over and over before he swapped the app over to the map instead. Seven’s location hadn't changed or disappeared, so that was a good sign. It meant that he was still there and operational. But even still, Prompto couldn’t help but be a little worried about him.

_Meldacio Hunter HQ, huh…_

He needed to talk to Gladiolus.

_Now_.

As he stared at the closed door of the bathroom, listening to the sound of the shower running, it was apparent that Ignis was having another one of his long showers. He was feeling particularly impatient today (maybe Seven was influencing him, too?) and decided he just couldn’t wait any longer. He got up from the bed, slid on his boots, and headed for the door.

“Hey Prom, where’re you going?” Noctis asked. The man was sitting up in bed, clean and dressed, his phone in his hands.

“The lake. Gotta ask Gladiolus some stuff. Wanna come?” Prompto replied.

Noctis rubbed at his chin, looking over at the bathroom door as well. “So we’re just gonna ditch Ignis?”

A pang of guilt welled in Prompto’s chest. Yet another new sensation. “He’ll understand.” He held his hands in front of himself, a sheepish smile on his face. “Right?”

“It’s his own fault, anyway. Ignis always takes _way_ too long in the shower. He can’t expect everyone to sit around and wait for him all the time.” Noctis yawned, tucking his phone into his pocket before he slid out bed. He grabbed his boots and pulled them on. “Don’t worry about it, Prompto. He’ll probably come and join us out there later.”

Prompto stared at the bathroom door. “Uh huh.”

“Aren’t you sick of the guy yet? You’re always hanging out together.”

“Nope.”

“Man, you’ve got the patience of a saint.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ignis is... well. He’s… a _lot._ ”

“We never noticed.”

“Really? But then again, you haven’t known him for like, twenty-plus-years like Gladio and I have.”

“You guys are kinda mean to him.”

“We love him. Honest. Besides, he’s mean to us too. All the time.”

Sometimes, Prompto still struggled to understand the complicated world of long term close friendship. Maybe… it really was beyond him. “Can we go now?” he urged, standing by the door.

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled, joining Prompto before he stepped ahead to lead the way out of their suite.

The pair headed down the street together. Noctis absently tugged on the hood of his large parka, adjusting the front of the jacket as he tried to line up the edges and zip it up.

Prompto was fond of Noctis. The pair had spent a lot of time chatting, whether in the back of the car or while they camped, when Gladiolus and Ignis were off doing whatever elsewhere. He’d decided long ago that he enjoyed Noctis’ company, but he felt a little bad that the man, while visibly enjoying being with the others and holding conversations, seemed like there was something a little off about him. Like his attention was constantly pulled somewhere else; his mind wandering as he would stare off into space on more than one occasion. Prompto didn’t dare inquire; after all, there was a chance that his withdrawn behavior was linked to the thing Ignis instructed him not to ask about.

The purpose of their entire road trip. Their end goal. The fact that, apparently, Noctis was a king. He sure didn’t look or act like one. But then again, Noctis was the first king Prompto had ever met for himself.

But no, that wasn’t true. He’d technically met Noctis’ father, the former king, all those years ago, when he’d photographed him with a young Noctis at the aquarium. If Prompto really wanted to, he could run a Moogle search on the Lucis Caelum name and learn everything there was to know about the royal bloodline, but it didn’t feel right to do so. He wanted to learn about his friend first hand, not through websites that were likely loaded with false information.

And besides. It would be ‘weird’ if he did that.

“Man, it’s _freezing_ here, even in the city,” Noctis muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together before shoving them inside the pockets lining the front of his jacket.

There _was_ one thing that Prompto could ask that wasn’t a part of the ‘big no-no’ list.

“How come you’re always so cold all the time?” he asked curiously, watching as the other seemed to struggle to retain his body heat. “The others don’t complain about the cold nearly as much as you do.”

Noctis laughed dryly. “Easy. I’m anemic.”

Prompto stared at him blankly.

“What, not gonna Moogle it?”

“Nope. We wanna hear you explain it.”

“Geez. I’m not a science or biology professor,” Noctis mumbled, but he continued despite. “It’s a condition where your body doesn’t produce enough red blood cells, so your iron levels tend to drop. Leaves you feeling not so great all the time. Fatigue and low body temperature, mostly, but sometimes things like dizziness or disorientation, if it comes on suddenly.”

“Oh, so that’s why you sleep a lot?”

“I guess.”

“Interesting.”

“Not really. Quite frankly, it sucks. And lucky me, figures I'd be born with it when I _really_ could do without it. For a lot of reasons.”

“You still fight really well.”

“Yeah, and then I pay for it later. But it's also because I don't have a choice.”

“Oh.” Prompto hesitated. “Because of your job, right?”

Noctis sighed. “Yeah,” he uttered. “Because of my job.”

“For the record, we think you're pretty incredible.”

“Thanks, man. You're not too shabby either.”

Prompto thought back to all the times when his friends risked their lives to take down daemons on a near daily basis, weapons swinging, magic crackling. He worried about them, putting themselves in danger while he was delegated to the back seat of the car. There were times when he was tempted to burst out from the back seat and rush over to help, but… Ignis had been firm in his instructions. _Stay back. Remain inside the car at all times. Do not get in harm’s way. Let us protect you._

“We’ve studied battle techniques and weaponry, but Ignis still won't let us help. Why?” Prompto asked idly.

Noctis frowned, giving Prompto a predictable response. “He doesn't want anyone else to get involved.”

“But we’d be so _good_ at it,” Prompto complained. “We’re fast, our body is made out of sturdy materials… we don't feel pain… we wouldn't break. We’d be perfect in battle. Don't you think?”

“Maybe,” Noctis replied after a moment. “But just because you _could_ , doesn't mean you _should_.”

Prompto made a frustrated sound. “But _why?!”_

“Ignis cares about you.”

“Yeah, but he cares about you too, and you still have to fight.”

“That's different.”

“Is it?”

Noctis stopped walking, stepping in front of Prompto. His eyes were so blue, so stark against his pale skin and dark hair. “Please just let us protect you.”

“We don't want you to get hurt either,” Prompto murmured, sliding his arms around himself. “What if we want to protect _you_ for a change?”

Noctis just smiled weakly. “You're a really great guy, Prompto. But… please. This is just… the way things have to be.”

“We don't comprehend.”

“If something happened to you…” Noctis trailed off.

“If something happened to us…” Prompto repeated, urging him to continue.

Noctis rubbed at his bearded chin. “I’m… not so sure how Ignis would take it.”

“We… _really_ don't comprehend.”

“I'm pretty sure you’ve dethroned Gladio as Iggy’s best friend, man.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It's hard to explain, but… ever since you started traveling with us… Ignis has been… different.”

“Has he?”

“Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen him smile this much.”

Prompto recalled how Ignis was when they first met. Granted, the man had been exhausted and out of his element at the time, but… had he really been that different?

_“Do you ever feel lonely?” Prompto asked._

_“Sometimes,” Ignis admitted._

‘Lonely’.

Prompto didn't understand. Ignis had amazing friends and a great sounding life. How could he be lonely?

When the image of Ignis’ many types of smiles flashed through his mind, he really couldn’t help but smile, too. The subtle version: small yet present, faintly tugging at the corners of his pursed lips. The casual version: where the tugging succeeded, blooming an expression that matched his gentle kindness. The maximum version: accompanied by his rare laughter, eyes closed and teeth exposed in an expression of pure joy.

“He's... got a good smile. We try to make it happen whenever we can,” Prompto said quietly.

“Thanks, Prom.” Noctis smiled, giving Prompto’s shoulder an affectionate rub before he started walking again.

When they arrived at last at the lake residences, it didn't take them long to spot Gladiolus. Trotting up on the sunshine yellow chocobo, Daisy, with Sania on the red Geranium close behind him, he waved and grinned as they pulled over, bird feet scraping against the ground, feathers rustling.

“Hey,” Gladio greeted. “What brings you two ‘round here?”

“You,” Prompto replied bluntly..

“Heh. Flattered, really, I am. But I’m taken,” Gladiolus pointed over his shoulder at Sania.

Prompto ignored the joke and got right to the point. “Gladio, your family’s a part of the Hunters Organization, right?”

Gladiolus’ grin faded. “Yeah. That’s right. Why ya askin’?”

“It’s, uh… kind of a long story.” Prompto shifted on his feet. “Do you have a sec?”

Gladiolus nodded, turning the chocobo around so they could all head back to Sania’s place together. When they arrived, Sania served the birds some greens, making sure they were taken care of before she dragged Noctis away by the sleeve. At first there was some resistance, but when Sania uttered the words ‘fishing’, Noctis had no problem accompanying her.

“So,” Gladiolus began, sitting down in one of the outdoor chairs with a drink in hand, “Wanna go ahead and tell me why you’re asking about the Hunters Org?”

Prompto removed his phone from his jacket pocket. Turning on the screen, he bit his lip when he saw that he still had no replies from Seven. He brought up the map application instead, placing his phone in Gladiolus’ free hand. “Do you know where this is?”

Gladiolus touched his fingers to the screen, zooming out on the map to get a better look at the surrounding area. “Yeah, that’s easy. Meldacio Hunter HQ.”

“Is it true that it’s been… destroyed?” Prompto asked timidly. He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“Sad to say, but yeah.”

Prompto grit his teeth.

“...Though, according to my sister,” Gladiolus continued, “there’s a chance that they’ve started building up something there again.”

Prompto perked up, reaching to take the phone back from the other. “You have a sister?”

“Yep. Her name’s Iris. She’s been real busy these last few years. Working odd jobs. Taking down beasts and daemons and all kinds of baddies. Dad’s been proud of her.”

“Wow,” Prompto marveled. “She sounds awesome.”

“She is.” Gladiolus smiled. “Been awhile since I’ve crossed her path, but Sania said that she’s seen her around quite a bit. Maybe we’ll end up running into her at some point. Who knows. Anyway, yeah, last I heard they’ve been wanting to salvage the legacy of the HQ by rebuilding it. Area’s been overrun with a lot of dangerous daemons for a long time, though, which is why it was treated as a lost cause for years. Not even hunters wanted to go back there. But maybe something’s changed. It’s all just baseless rumours, though.”

Prompto stared at his phone screen. That little blue pulsing orb on the map… it was calling to him. “Our… brother is there.”

“Huh?”

“Seven. He’s there. We managed to track him.”

“Oh. That’s a weird place for another bot to be, isn’t it?”

“It is. But… we know we’re not wrong. Without a doubt, that’s where he is. We wanna go.”

“Kinda out of the way.”

“Ignis says it’s okay. And so does Noctis.”

Gladiolus ran a hand through his hair, making a bit of a face. “Well, whatever His Majesty says, goes, so. Guess we’ll be checking it out.”

“You seem… apprehensive,” Prompto noted.

“Yeah,” Gladiolus sighed. “Not really a fan of heading out to a daemon-infested area unless it’s absolutely necessary. But I’m sure it’ll be nothing we can’t handle.”

Prompto glanced around the campsite, checking to see if there was a certain someone around, listening in on their conversation. “Gladio… would you… train us, sometime?” he asked in a small voice.

Gladiolus blinked. “Train? You mean like… sparring?”

“We guess.”

“But Ignis---”

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea for us to be able to protect ourselves?” Prompto interrupted. “Like, say… what if something happened, and… you guys needed help, or… well… _anything_ could happen, right?”

Gladiolus sighed. “You’re right. But I don’t want you to get involved, either.”

“But what about what _we_ want?” Prompto stepped in front of Gladiolus, looking him in the eye. “No one seems to care about what we want. We’re glad everyone cares about our wellbeing. We really, really are. It’s just… everyone’s always saying how dangerous things are all the time, and it makes us feel helpless. We want to help. What if there was ever a time where something happened to you or Ignis---”

“Impossible,” Gladiolus muttered.

“Okay, but pretend that it _was_ possible. Then what? Who would protect Noctis?”

“Noct’s pretty capable.”

“He told us about his condition.”

“He knows his limits. Besides, he can warp-strike out of there if things get tight.”

“Gladio---”

“But,” Gladiolus added, “you’re absolutely right. There’s always that possibility of ‘what if’.”

Prompto smiled. “There’s _always_ a ‘what if’,” he agreed.

“Well, y’know. I don’t really have a problem with it.  I think it would be a good idea if you knew a trick or two. Besides, I know he’s got good intentions and all, but Iggy can’t exactly tell you what to do. You can do whatever you want. Right?”

_To do as he pleased._ That was the whole purpose of Ignis giving him his new directive. He wasn’t bound to any set of rules, to any set purpose. It was given to him with the intention to be bent, to be twisted around, to whatever it was he wanted it to be. To give him something resembling free will. To give him the ability to want. To need. To make his own choices.

_This_ was his choice.

Prompto nodded firmly. “Right.”

“All right. Let’s do it, then.” Gladiolus set his empty beverage bottle down on the ground before getting to his feet.

“Seriously?” Prompto’s eyes widened, bouncing a bit on his heels in excitement.

“Seriously. Let’s do some training.”

≈

For a few hours each day during the remainder of his stay at the Vesperpool, Prompto trained with Gladiolus. When Noctis caught wind of what was going on, he joined in, too.

Prompto was thrilled to be presented with his own pair of magical weapons; two silver guns that fit in his hands perfectly, like they were meant to be. Quik and Silver, named in honour of Seven and his ‘twin’ back at their aquarium. A present, Noctis had said. Just in case.

Ignis had no idea.

When the day finally came to pack up their things in preparation of leaving the Vesperpool at last, it was bittersweet. Prompto didn’t want to leave Sania, and neither did Gladiolus, but Sania made no effort to hold them back.

“Don’t you worry about me,” Sania insisted, moving her arm around Prompto’s shoulders while the others busied themselves with loading up the car with supplies. “I’m safe and sound right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but---” Prompto began.

“No buts.”

“Sania… we really want you to come with us.”

“You know I can’t. But that doesn’t mean that you won’t be able to see or talk to me again, Doll Face. I’ve got a cell phone, too.”

Prompto stared at her like she’d just revealed that she had a third eye on the back of her head. Right. She had a phone this entire time, and yet he’d completely forgotten about it.

“You’ll text us all the time, right?” Prompto pulled out his phone, already bringing up his contacts list so he could add her phone number. “You’ll send us lots of pics of Clementine, right?”

“Daily photo logs, if that’s what you want,” Sania replied, smiling as she got out her own phone. “You and Ollie won’t miss a thing. I promise.”

“Sweet.” Prompto entered Sania’s number in his phone, sending her a text so she would have his information, too. “You can, uh, keep the poop-related stuff to yourself, though.”

Sania laughed. “If I have to look at it, so do you. Or at least, Ollie does. He _is_ the father, after all. You? Well, I'm not so sure an uncle deserves to be subjected to that. Uncles are special.”

Prompto tucked his phone away as he shifted on his feet. “Uncle, huh?” He thought back on the list of familial term definitions he’d downloaded a while ago. “Wait, so does that mean we’re siblings?”

“I used to feel that way a long time ago, like you were my little brother,” Sania said softly. “Someone to watch out for. But now, I’m not too sure.”

“Oh.”

“Now,” she continued, pulling Prompto closer, their cheeks touching. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Clementine is more your little sister than your niece.”

“Huh?” Prompto looked up at her quizzically. “Are you saying we’re a chocobo?”

“Don’t mean to alarm you, but your hair gives you away,” Gladiolus suddenly rumbled beside him. He closed the trunk to the car and walked over to them, reaching up so he could ruffle Prompto’s hair. “Could hardly tell the difference, especially from a distance.”

“Dude, and what is _that_ supposed to mean?” Prompto pushed on Gladiolus in an attempt to get him to step away, but he didn’t budge. The man probably weighed as much as one of the shipping and receiving trucks back at the aquarium; he _really_ wasn’t going anywhere.

“Means your hair looks like a chocobo butt.” Gladiolus grinned wide.

“Huh?!” Prompto managed to break free from Gladiolus, his hands shooting up to his hair. “No way! It does not!”

“It so does.”

“Hey---”

“Take it as a compliment. Chocobo butts are really great. Their tail feathers are _awesome_. So soft, and fluffy too. Easily the best bird butt out there.”

Prompto scrunched his nose as he smoothed his hair down. Noctis was right. Outdoorsman types… “You're really weird, Gladio. We mean, you’re not _wrong_ , but… still weird.”

The man just laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway, looks like we’re all packed up and good to go now. So whenever you’re ready, we’ll be off.” Gladiolus then made eye contact with Sania.

There was a look in his eyes that Prompto couldn’t quite place. Sadness, almost. A longing. He knew that Gladiolus didn’t want to leave Sania behind, either. They'd already said their goodbyes earlier, but Prompto almost felt like he should give them another moment of privacy. Unfortunately, he didn't want to leave Sania any sooner than he had to.

“We’re gonna miss you,” Prompto whispered, moving his arms around Sania and hugging her close. “So much.”

Sania took a breath, returning the gesture as she ran a hand through Prompto’s hair affectionately. “Oh, stop. I've already cried enough since you came to visit. Are you really gonna make me cry some more?”

Prompto smiled. “Yep.”

Sania gave him a playful shove. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” she added softly, kissing the top of his head. A few tears beaded in the corners of her eyes, her delicate fingers bunching up the fabric of his jacket.

Love.

Prompto knew the word. He understood the definition. But he didn’t _really_ understand it. It had always seemed so complicated to him, so completely beyond him, but now… maybe… he wondered if he really _could_ understand.

When he first saw Sania again. When he thought about Ignis. That ache that sank deep in his chest. That strange sensation that stirred in his circuits. That warmth, that odd feeling that spread through his surface and core like wildfire.

Was it love?

Before he could consider returning the words, Ignis sidled over, his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Pardon my intrusion,” he said politely.

_Warmth._

Sania moved her arms away from Prompto so she could remove her glasses. “Y’all better take good care of my Prompto for me,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. “Mr. Scientia, I'm looking at _you_.”

“Absolutely, Sania. Do let me know when you've finished your report on the Jabberwock, won't you?” Ignis slid his hands inside his long jacket’s pockets. “I'm looking forward to reading it.”

“You'll be the first to know, honey. Clementine’s been occupying most of my free time as of late, but now that she’s starting to accept her big girl food instead of baby formula, she may start being more independent. I may have hope of getting some work done yet.”

“Ah, I’ve got just the thing. Something to keep her company, in your absence.” Ignis removed the heavy bag from his shoulder, lowering it so he could open it up and dig around in its contents. Prompto watched as Ignis eventually unearthed something he knew quite well; a familiar, colourful sight that nearly felt alien to him now, something that was almost jarring to look at upon first glance.

In his hand was a Prompto Argentum plush toy, finely detailed and stitched to replicate the Argentum Aquatic Centre’s ‘Familiar Face, Worldwide’. Its simple, cartoony face donned a big smile; its bright yellow hair made from floppy felt that stuck out from beneath its hat. Stitched to its hand was a plush camera that had a cartoon fish on the preview screen.

“Well, I'll be,” Sania marveled, laughing as she stepped closer to take it from Ignis. “Haven't seen one of these in forever. Didn't think I ever would.”

“You… took one? From the gift shop?” Prompto asked, puzzled. “But why?”

Ignis shrugged. “No particular reason. But it seems my pillaging was not in vain; everything I brought along has served a purpose. It will do until you're able to visit again, wouldn't you agree?”

Prompto stared, watching as Sania turned the toy around in her hands, inspecting the little outfit. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It's… perfect.”

The colourful uniform the toy wore, the bright hues of blue and green, lovingly replicated from the aquatic themed outfit he used to wear, made it difficult to look away from. He remembered being so upset when he had no choice but to swap his own outfit for something less eye catching, something more _normal_ , but now? Just the sight, the reminder of how he used to look made him feel strange.

Why did he feel so disconnected?

Now, it was time to leave the other reminder of his past life behind.

As they all loaded themselves into the car and drove away, leaving the Vesperpool in their wake, Prompto watched as the towering walls surrounding the city began to get smaller and smaller in the distance.

_Goodbye, Sania._

≈

“Good evening, Prompto.”

Ignis’ voice greeted him as Prompto stepped into the tent. They had been driving for hours, settling down at another haven they’d found along the way, a temporary place of safety while they got some rest.

“Hey,” Prompto replied. He kicked his boots off by the door, then walked over to Ignis’ side, sitting down beside him on his sleeping bag without another word. He moved his arms around himself, bringing his knees up to his chest as he rested his forehead against them. His stance, one that gave off a serious vibe of ‘don’t touch me’, betrayed the entire reason why he’d come to the tent for their traditional evening hang out time. Hang out time meant spending one-on-one time with Ignis, where they would chat with one another, play games together on their phone, read together, write together… comfort each other.

Ignis pursed his lips. “Is something wrong, Prompto?” he asked slowly, reaching a cautious hand out to touch his shoulder.

Prompto jerked upon contact. “Seven still won’t reply to us,” he muttered.

“Are you worried?”

“Well, yeah? How could we not be worried?” Prompto shot back, perhaps a bit harsher than he intended. “Last we heard from him, he was with someone? Maybe? We don’t even know. His signal’s still on our GPS. He’s technically still in our chat, connected to the server, but he just… isn’t responding. We don’t know what it means.”

“I see,” Ignis replied. He set his book down before he moved closer to Prompto, his arm coming to rest around his shoulders. “I’m not sure what to make of it, either. But if his signal is still present, and he’s still connected to the server, then shouldn’t that put you at ease somewhat? It’s proof that he is still there, rather than if all traces of him had disappeared completely.”

“Maybe. But it’s not like him to just… not respond. Usually he’s spamming us with messages all day long. Especially if we mention you.”

“Oh?”

“Seven’s totally fanboying over you, dude. Didn’t we mention that before?”

Ignis made an amused sound. “Interesting. And yet, he’s never truly met me, though I do suppose we have chatted a couple of times. Does he really have that strong of an opinion of me?”

“Yep. Dunno why. But his favourite topic is you.”

“Can’t imagine why. Noctis is far more interesting than I am.”

“That’s not really true, but---”

“Is that so?”

Prompto grunted. “Anyway, Seven’s not replying to us, it sucks, and we don’t really know what to do with ourselves now. Guess we didn’t really realize just how much we relied on him for company until now… now that he’s… gone.”

“I’m sure he will make contact again in due time, Prompto. If it’s true that he’s made a ‘friend’, then it’s very possible that someone is there, taking care of him. His GPS location hasn’t changed, which means he is still functional and he hasn’t been moved from the former Hunter HQ. Let’s just keep a close eye on that signal while we work our way over there, all right? If he hasn’t replied to you by then, it is likely that we will get our answers in person instead.”

Prompto’s stiff pose relaxed somewhat. He unbent his knees, leaning into Ignis as the man’s hand on his shoulder gently gripped the fabric of his jacket. “Thanks, Ignis. We feel a little better now,” he said softly.

“Glad to hear it.”

Silence passed between them as the warmth in Prompto’s chest spread. He swore he felt Ignis’ breath against his ear when he spoke; or maybe it was just another elaborate trick his system was playing on him. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Hey, Ignis?”

“Yes, Prompto?”

“...thanks.”

“What for?”

“Everything.”

There was that hand in his hair again, gentle, comforting. It drew him closer, until his head was resting against Ignis’ shoulder.

“You’re welcome, Prompto.”


	11. ANOMALY, VER. 2.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is at last! I started writing this chapter almost a year ago (!!!!) and I JUST NOW got it to a state where I'm happy enough with it to consider it being postable (...for the most part). If writing this fic were an RPG, this chapter would have been a mid-boss, if not something resembling a final boss, but at last, it has been defeated for good. I hope everyone enjoys it! 
> 
> And beware: this chapter contains a heavy, heavy dose of various feelings.
> 
> (Special thanks to Godspoison and Peach for all of their rigorous editing and help with taming the beast that is this chapter.)

DATA LOG #11: ANOMALY, VER. 2.0    
  


Prompto underestimated just how infested a ‘daemon infested zone’ could be.

The moment they turned onto the main road that lead to their next destination, the former Hunter HQ, they were predictably faced with a little problem: daemons. Like a powerful dam cracking, they seemingly burst from the seams of whatever realm from which they had escaped, swarming the roads, flooding through the wooded areas, knocking over trees and destroying everything in their path. So wild and hungry they were that the creatures even began to cannibalize one another, leaving behind a trail of blood and entrails in their wake. Per Gladiolus’ suggestion, they attempted to weed out as many of the daemons as possible, luring stragglers to a clear area to dispose of them there. In the end, their efforts were for naught; for every ten daemons they defeated, they were quickly replaced by ten more, emerging near infinitely from the darkness. Finding an alternate route around the problem areas appeared to work for a little while, then turned just as hopeless as even in the opposite direction there were daemons as far as the eye could see.

One night, after they’d finally found a safe haven to camp at, the air was thick with tension among the group. “We’ve gotta get out of here,” Gladiolus argued. “We’re all gonna die before we get anywhere. And for what?”

“There's always another way, always a solution,” Ignis retorted. “We just have to keep trying.”

“I'm starting to side with Gladio here, as much as I hate to admit it,” Noctis added. “Guess there was a reason why this region was closed off after all, huh?”

Prompto had lain in the tent, listening to his friends argue. Because of him. Because of a detour, an objective that had nothing to do with his friends’ better interests. Was he being selfish? Maybe. But… this was something he had to do. One way or another, he had to go there. Even if he had to separate from the others, he’d do what he had to, even if it filled his chest with a horrible feeling, a sense of dread that he’d never felt before.

_Seven._

_Where are you?_

_Are you even there?_

Seven still wouldn't reply to his messages. He hadn’t heard a peep from him; not since he’d mentioned the world being dark.

Prompto stared at his map. That glowing, pulsating blue dot. Seven’s location.

_We’ll find you. We promise._

≈

A few days later, after finding a winding, narrow path of trees to navigate through, they appeared to be making some progress. Pushing forward, they were determined to make headway in their subquest for Prompto’s sake. Smaller daemons in large numbers soon became no problem for them to mow through, thanks to Noctis’ recharged magic. Even if they had spent more time than they’d wanted to during these trials and tribulations, they’d decided that they had gone through far too much to just give up and turn around now; they may as well make the best of the situation and see it through to the very end.

One evening, after a long day of careful problem solving and tiresome battles, they pulled over to dispose of yet another hoard of daemons. Prompto, relegated to waiting in the back seat as usual, thought nothing of it. He pulled out his phone and sent Seven several messages, just in case today would finally be the day that he would reply.

He didn’t.

Seven was still connected to the server, yet all of the messages he’d sent sat there, unread. What was he doing? Was it even possible to ignore the messages, if one were permanently connected? Prompto had his doubts, and yet the evidence was all there right in front of him.

He sank further in his seat, attempting to unravel the mystery that was his wayward brother yet again.

...As expected, he found no answers.

What was he supposed to do to pass the time, if he couldn’t chat with his brother anymore?

At a loss, he brought up his internet browser and started to sift through random encyclopedia articles while he waited for his friends to return. He’d avoided doing anything of the sort in recent times, thanks to his new ‘no Moogling’ policy, but right now was different. There was no harm in doing it just this once, right? Just for a little while, while he waited for the others to come back. They wouldn’t even know he had stepped out of the ‘normal’ zone at all, tinkering around in his mind, getting lost within the tunnels and coding of his internal OS.

But just as he began to descend into a never-ending chasm of knowledge, Prompto jolted to attention when a loud echoing roar, a deafening _boom_ erupted from somewhere outside. The unknown force shook the very ground the car stood on, causing the smooth cell phone to slip from Prompto’s fingers and land on his lap.

Startled, he scrambled to pick up his phone before sitting up, looking over the seat in front of him. He peered through the windshield, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he’d hoped was an answer to what he had just experienced. Through the glass, he saw nothing: no daemons, no friends, no sign of life at all. The dark world around him appeared to be deserted; not even the trees illuminated by the headlights in front of the vehicle stirred. Dead silence filled the air, almost ominous against the earthshaking noise moments prior.

At first Prompto wondered if he had been mistaken, if his system had momentarily glitched out and messed with his sensors, but no… that couldn’t have been it. It had all been too _real_. Was it possible for an android to have an imagination? In some ways, yes, but would his OS really put through a ‘what if’ simulation without him initiating it?

When nothing else followed, Prompto was left just as confused as he was when it had happened. Shrugging it off, he slumped back down against the seat, lifting his phone to his line of sight once more. He resisted the urge to pull Moogle back up in his mind, stumped over what he had just experienced. _Loud noises_ , he could search. Generic, but...

Just when Prompto thought it was safe to relax again, another loud _boom_ , followed by several others of smaller intensity, shook his safe haven. Then came distant uttering of what Prompto assumed were voices, shrouded by the angry bristling of tree branches above.

Prompto placed his hands on the seat in front of him, gripping the headrests as he trembled. Just _what_ was going on outside? It didn't sound like one of Noctis’ spells. Could it be a daemon? Or something else? Somehow it felt different than their usual daemon encounters, and it left him with a really bad feeling deep in his chest. He spent a moment silently debating, arguing with himself. Whatever was going on out there, his friends could be part of it.

He had to leave. He _had_ to find them.

But he couldn’t leave. He had to stay here, where it was safe. He had been told, firmly, what was expected of him when left to his own vices.

_Ignis can't tell you what to do_ , Gladiolus’ voice rumbled in the back of his mind.

And he was right. Ignis _couldn't_ tell him what to do. He could make his own choices; he didn't have to listen to anyone if he didn't want to. He wasn’t following a task scheduling program anymore. He no longer had a specific directive, something controlling his movements, planning out his everyday life.

But… he knew Ignis wouldn't give anyone a command unless it was in his better judgment. Every word he spoke was articulated with a cool, calm, thought out clarity. If Ignis told him to stay inside the vehicle, it was because he had predicted the most likely outcome of the situation. Ignis had no intention of controlling anyone - all he wanted was to protect the ones he cared about. And sometimes, it meant giving instructions.

Still, no matter how hard Prompto tried, how strong his desire to abide by Ignis’ guidance was, Prompto knew that in the end he wouldn’t be able to stay put. Would he really be able to forgive himself if he sat here twiddling his thumbs while his friends risked their lives? _Again?_ Even if this was a daily occurrence, it didn’t mean that Prompto had to like it, to accept it and the possible consequences as being the way things had to be.

_Accompany Ignis Scientia, wherever he may go._

His hands bunched up in his feathery blond hair, threatening to pull it right out of his head. _Conflict. Conflict. Conflict._ Was ‘free will’ supposed to be this difficult? This… painful? He’d never been faced with a decision like this before. Going against instructions. Going against Ignis’ words. He knew that if he left, he could potentially be in danger.

But he didn’t care.

His friends could be in danger.

_Ignis_ could be in danger.

Noctis had gifted him his weapons for a reason.

…

Scrambling for the door handle, Prompto removed himself from the car and quickly summoned his weapons, the twin pair of guns that fit snugly in his hands. He gave the grips a firm squeeze and steadily began to walk through the darkness, away from the vehicle and towards the wooded clearing that his friends had disappeared into just over an hour ago.

Wading through the nearby trees, Prompto took careful note of his surroundings to ensure that he was in fact alone, but kept his guard up just in case. He had no experience fighting daemons. Sure, he’d _learned_ plenty about the creatures that inhabited the night from Sania and the others, but when it came to personal experience… he had none. Not even during the ten years he was alone in the aquarium had he seen or interacted with any daemons beyond the walls. The aquarium had served as a safe haven, a place where nothing could penetrate the walls around him, a shelter from the cruel and often times terrifying world outside. And while he’d learned that the world outside the aquarium had its share of beauty, he’d also learned that it possessed an ugliness, a danger, similar to the morbid experience he’d had in the Sahagin exhibit with Ignis.

He didn’t want his friends to become the Sahagin.

While Prompto waded through the forest, time blurred, as did his surroundings. Every tree he passed, every rock he kicked with the toe of his boot, every pile of leaves he crunched - they all looked and sounded the same. No trace of daemons, no trace of friends. That was, until he heard that horrible sound again.

_Boom_.

Then, far away from where he stood came a glimmer of voices, a guide that he then used as a beacon to follow. As he approached the source, the voices increased in volume, transforming from a distant murmur to discernible words. He stopped to duck behind a brush of plantlife, listening closely in the shadows.

“We need to retreat!” said one voice.

“There’s no point! They’ll just follow!” retorted another.

“We just need a different strategy,” added one more. “I’ve got their patterns memorized, now.”

“Do you really?”

A pause.

“Don’t look at me like that. We need to be _sure_. We can’t afford to take another risk.”

“Noct can’t take much more of this. He’s gonna pass out.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

“No, you are not.”

“Just keep back. We’ll take care of this.”

“Gladio, it is clear that not even you are a match for these particular daemons.”

“What, and _you_ are?”

“The bulk of your weapon slows you down. Might I suggest---”

“Suggest what? I get what you’re trying to say. You’re saying I’m useless. Right. As if you’re doing _so much better_.”

“This is hardly the time to argue for the sake of your ego.”

“Ignis is right. Gladio, I hate to say it, but---”

“And what, just leave Ignis behind? He’s gonna die if we leave him here!”

“He won’t die.”

“But his attacks aren’t working, either! He’ll get outnumbered in no time.”

“But he’s fast. He’s been dodging them just fine.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point if he can’t even land a hit? They just keep _coming!_ ”

“Both of you, quit your bickering and just _listen_. Get out of here, as fast as you can. I have a plan, one last thing I can try, and if it fails, then I will soon follow suit.”

“But Ignis---”

“ _Please_.”

After a brief pause, the sound of hesitant footsteps crunching in the hard dirt came next, followed by two pairs of hurried boots not far from where Prompto was crouching. A retreat? Unease sparked through his circuits as two of three companions ran right past him, leaving Ignis and the battlefield behind.

Prompto had been right; the others were in trouble.

He waited until the sound of his friends’ departure was just a mere rustle in the distance before he slowly left his area of refuge.

_Ignis,_ Prompto thought. _He… he needs help. He needs_ our _help._

Just what were they up against?

He pushed forward, rushing for the parting in the trees in front of him. Ignoring the tree branches scraping against his skin, he scanned his immediate surroundings for his friend. Right away he spotted Ignis in the darkness, laced with a purple hue that made for an unnerving sight.

Beyond the forest’s edge was a large, grassy field lined with several demolished trees around its perimeter. Shredded tree bark and singed leaves decorated the ground, likely a result of the horrible noises Prompto had heard earlier. There in the middle of it all was Ignis, hands securely around the hilts of his daggers, blades simmering aflame with Noctis’ blessing of Sagefire.

Ignis’ appearance alone told Prompto all he needed to know; his neatly styled hair had fallen in his eyes, his jaw tense and his posture defensive. Surrounding him from every angle was the source of the horrible explosions, the sight something Prompto couldn’t quite comprehend at first. Countless sentient orbs hovered in the air with a crackling, sinister hum, sparking with flashes of electricity that lit up the darkness with each pulse.

As Prompto stood there, frozen in awe, he watched as Ignis fended off the creatures one by one, attempting to put distance between them and himself with artful backflips and masterful dodging. The swift snap of his fiery daggers almost echoed, quickly culling the smaller orbs that had swarmed together. Prompto barely saw him move at all; his grace and speed was akin to a professional dancer, every step planned, every turn on his heels coordinated. But just when Ignis appeared to be making a dent in the masses, he took two steps backward as the daemons replicated themselves almost instantly. Any orbs that his blades couldn’t reach in a timely manner quickly began to grow in size, swelling with an almost deafening and heavy hum that beat the components inside Prompto’s ears.

Leaping backward, Ignis stood motionless for a quick calculating moment before his flames warped in shape, fiery orange arches giving way to glistening blue swirls of ice in its place. While Ignis plotted his next move, one of the larger daemons approached from his left, bobbing in the air in a menacing stance. Ignis’ eyes widened, and without a moment’s hesitation he dodged to the side, then sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him.

And then, there came that haunting noise, that shuddering tremor that Prompto had come to know very well.

_Boom_.

If Prompto had eardrums, it would have been deafening; but even so, he could have sworn something had rattled in his head right then, scrambling his circuits. In the aftermath of the earth-shattering sound was fire, erupting in the grass while shards of the orb’s illuminated remains decorated the ground around it.

Bombs. These orbs, these daemons… they were living _bombs_.

The smaller bombs that Ignis failed to cull suddenly grew, swelling rapidly in mere seconds. Larger and larger they expanded until they reached their limit, bursting like balloons filled with one pump too many of helium. The sheer force of the explosions nearly knocked Prompto off of his feet; it was no wonder that he’d felt these intense vibrations all the way back at the car.

As he watched the scene in front of him, unnerved by the entire situation, Prompto thought back to the conversation he’d overheard earlier and realized that Ignis had been right. Gladiolus’ weapon was too heavy to successfully land any hits or allow him to dodge any of the quick daemons’ attacks. Noctis, despite the advantage of his warp-striking and magic skills, was at risk due to his faltering energy and concentration. Which left Ignis, the swift and brilliant strategist, their last hope at taking any of the remaining daemons down. Unfortunately for Ignis, the bombs were just as quick as he was. They were able to home in on him whenever he made an attempt to flee back to safety, leaving him with no time to plan a new strategy. It was a miracle that Gladiolus and Noctis were able to get away without any trailing behind them.

Ignis darted from enemy to enemy in quick succession, leaving behind a trail of blue fizzling light that nipped at his heels. He appeared to have the upper hand right then, but while he was distracted another three medium-sized bombs grew to gargantuan proportions. They congregated like magnets, drawn to Ignis like a moth to a flame.

Ignis was in danger.

Without a doubt, there really was no way out of this.

Ignis... was going to die.

Prompto’s hands shook. He very nearly dropped his guns, distracted by the worrisome thoughts running through his mind. Despite the simulated nerves buzzing in his circuits, he didn’t turn and run. He didn’t join the others back at the car like his logic told him to do. Instead, the phrase Ignis had programmed inside him rang clearly in his mind, over and over until it was almost a spellbinding chant.

_Accompany Ignis Scientia, wherever he may go._

Prompto decided then that his directive wasn’t a command, it was a guideline. They had already established it as such; those words were meant to be bent to his will, however he chose to abide by them. They were specially crafted in such a way that they wouldn’t cause his system to brick.

_Directive._

With finality in his empty chest, he suddenly bolted from his refuge, as if the very trees had expelled him… over to where he rightfully belonged.

What happened next was a blur, a flurry of loud bangs and sizzling pops, flashes of light and colour and the skidding of boots on flame-damaged ground. Prompto shot at the daemons from a distance, quickly taking out the smaller bombs that seemed to replenish faster than they had before.

Ignis, stunned by the blond’s surprise appearance, froze. After a moment’s reprieve he shouted at Prompto, desperate to grab his attention and direct him to safety. But his words were lost, drowned and quickly forgotten among the echo of gunshots and the rumble of explosions. His eyes were unable to focus on the chaos around him, dirt and soot clinging to the lenses of his glasses. Deeming his efforts a loss, he had no choice but to go along with Prompto’s impromptu plan, hastily analyzing the situation and adapting to provide support.

While Ignis took out the mid-sized bombs with his artfully wielded daggers, Prompto drew the largest ones away, luring them a safe distance from Ignis before he made his next move. He dashed, circling behind the daemons while a barrage of bullets pierced tough, gaseous hides.  Each shot from his gun weakened them until they finally deflated and seemingly fizzled out of existence.

His friends’ earlier struggles all made sense now: these particular daemons could only be slain from a distance.

Hoard after hoard of daemons were successfully eradicated. Ignis and Prompto soon found their rhythm, coordinating as a single unit as they learned from one another. Their footwork was akin to an intricate dance routine, synchronized and perfect, not a fumble or trip in sight. They waltzed around their battlefield theatre for a long grueling time, daemons disappearing one by one to the beat of their silent song.

Then, with a final snap of lightning, the hum that had made Prompto’s hair stand on end dissipated entirely. The daemons… were gone. _Finally_ , it was all over. All Prompto could hear in the newly settled silence was the sound of Ignis’ breathing behind him, gasps and huffs as his lungs tried to catch up to his racing heart.

Prompto felt no such strain; he had no heart, no lungs in which to take a breath, yet he didn’t move an inch. He had been so desperate to get to Ignis, to protect him no matter what, yet he was hesitant to approach him. Uncertainty swam in his circuits, the fear of what Ignis might say for interfering bubbling up alongside his relief of the annihilated threat.

He couldn’t believe that had just happened.

Their coordination… the way they had complemented one another in battle… there was only one word Prompto could use to describe it:

_Beautiful_.

Ignis stood on unsteady legs. He attempted to take a step forward, his boots scraping against the charred ground as his legs dared to crumple beneath him. Fearing he may collapse for real, Prompto turned quickly, rushing over to Ignis’ side.

“Ignis! Are you okay?!” he shouted, his voice piercing the silence. His boots clomped against the ground, then came to a slow stop when Ignis raised a hand to silence him.

Ignis’ posture matched the state of his appearance, his hair deflated and messy from the battle’s turbulence. His clothing had been burnt in several places, fabric torn and singed in spark-kissed patches. Thankfully, that seemed to be the extent of the damage, from what Prompto could tell.

“I recall clearly asking you to remain inside the car,“ Ignis said at last, ice freezing each word.

Prompto’s eyes widened. He stepped forward, willing his guns to disappear before reaching a hand out towards Ignis. “Yeah, but---” he began.

“No buts,” Ignis replied, taking a step back. The daggers he held disappeared, his hands following suit as they slid inside his jacket pockets. “Prompto, this encounter was dangerous. Far more dangerous than the battles we have fought thus far. Do you really think I would send Gladiolus and Noctis away without reason?”

Prompto’s stance wavered. Ignis had never used this tone of voice with him before. It was detached, cold, lacking the warmth it always possessed. He was almost scared of what was to come, even if he had accomplished what he’d set out here to do in the first place. Ignis was safe, and so was he and their friends. Then why...?

“Ignis, you were in danger too,” Prompto gave in response, moving his arms around himself.

“I had perfect control over the situation,” the man replied.

“You did not.”

“Do not argue with me, Prompto. You could have lost your life tonight. Do you not understand that?”

“But Ignis, we’re not _alive_ ,” Prompto argued. “And even still, we walked away from that without a scratch! See?” Prompto stepped closer, gesturing up and down from head to toe, ending the display with a full turn on his heels. “We’re fine. And we saved you. We---”

“You didn’t save me,” Ignis corrected. “I saved the both of us. You merely functioned as a distraction, both to the daemons and to myself. I mistepped when you showed up. Your presence broke my concentration, interfered with my plan.”

Prompto scoffed. “Dude, we may not know much about daemons, but even we could tell you were outnumbered. Forget your plan, you’d obviously had it crumble to bits by the time we showed up. You were gonna get hurt, or worse.”

“Prompto, as I had just said a moment ago, I had everything perfectly under control.”

Prompto clenched his fists. He just didn’t understand. Ignis had needed help. Ignis had needed _his_ help. After everything they'd just gone through, Prompto now believed that they were meant to fight together as comrades. There was no way he’d imagined the chemistry they’d shared on the battlefield; it was as clear as the night air.

The way they’d moved as one; smooth, nearly flawless, a performance art as they took out the daemons with ease. The irrefutable evidence showed that their collaboration was meant to be, written in the stars. And yet… Ignis rejected the very notion. Ignis rejected _him._ There was no way that anyone could deny that their fighting styles had complemented each other, how they had flowed in perfect symmetry. Then why?

_You merely functioned as a distraction, both to the daemons and to myself,_ Ignis’ voice rang in his mind.

A strange sensation welled up in Prompto’s chest, daring to burst through his flesh-coloured exterior. _Frustration_ , he thought. This was frustration. So strong was this sensation that it was impossible to ignore, hopeless to avert before he said or did something he might regret. Before Prompto could even consider resisting, the angry word shot forth from his vocal chords like a bullet.

“Bullshit!”

His voice echoed through the clearing, piercing through the thick tension in the air. Ignis froze. He then huffed, his breath coming in heavy puffs of white clouds against the cold air. His hands had a difficult time deciding what they wanted to do, sliding out from his pockets, up to his glasses, through his hair, back in his pockets, and then out again before coming to settle on his hips in the end.

“Ignis, you’re not perfect,” Prompto continued, the drawn out silence tempting him to speak again. “Nobody is. Is it so hard for you to accept that maybe, just _maybe_ , things were looking really bad for you back there?” Prompto’s expression twisted into something resembling pain. “That _maybe_ , if you hadn’t had our help, you could have _died_ , for real?”

Ignis watched Prompto for a short moment. His blank slate of an expression twitched, just for a second, and just when Prompto thought that maybe his words had finally reached him, Ignis had other plans.

“I cannot believe this,” Ignis muttered, adjusting his glasses again as he turned around and began to head back toward the forest. “You were given guns. Noctis went behind my back. Gladio, too. And, obviously, you did as well. You were to never get involved with this, Prompto. I didn’t give those instructions for mere gratification, for no purpose. They were for your safety, as well as the others’. I have spent many years training for these types of situations. I know what is best. My role in the party is to plan meticulously, to ensure everyone’s wellbeing. Does no one take me seriously after all?”

Prompto just stared in disbelief at the man’s back. His hands balled into fists again, his arms shaking as his eyes narrowed with the sinking of his mood.

What was this emotion that had just been born within him?

Fear?

Anger?

No, not quite. Was it perhaps a mixture of both?

Whatever it was, it was overwhelming. He felt like one of Ignis’ pots over the campfire, just seconds away from boiling over with a thick blanket of bubbles.

And then, with a hard stomp of his boot, his pot spilled, sizzling loudly against the piping hot flames below.

“Hey!” Prompto yelled.

Ignis’ steps slowed to a halt.

“Take you seriously? Are you _kidding_ us right now?” Prompto spat. “What about us? When was the last time _you_ took _us_ seriously, Ignis?”

Ignis remained stationary; he hardly seemed to react at all. “Where are you going with this, Prompto?” he asked calmly.

“Not once have you ever asked us what _we_ want lately,” Prompto spoke as he approached Ignis steadily. “What we _really_ want. News flash? We’re really sick and tired of having to sit around in the car while you guys go out and endanger yourselves on a regular basis. We talked to Gladiolus about it. Then we talked to Noctis, too. Both of them agreed that it would be a good idea for us to get trained up, because hey, guess what, Ignis, we may not be alive, but _you_ are. You’re not invincible. You’re not some kind of immortal being, right? You definitely and absolutely _could_ have died back there, and you don’t even give a shit!”

“Prompto---”

“We want to _help_ ,” Prompto urged. “Back there, on the battlefield, you and us, we---”

“And I’ve already told you many times prior,” Ignis interrupted. “You have no reason to get involved in our affairs. It’s not your job.”

“Our job?” Prompto laughed bitterly. “We have no job anymore, Ignis. _You_ were the one that made damn sure of that. We used to have one, back at the aquarium, but not anymore.”

“Tending to a deserted aquarium filled with dead creatures is hardly a job.” Ignis avoided his gaze, keeping it forward, away from Prompto.

“Maybe, but it was a _purpose._ ” Prompto stopped walking a few feet away from Ignis. “Do we even have a purpose anymore? What point do we serve?”

“Of course you have a purpose, Prompto.”

“Which is…” Prompto made a circle in the air with his hand.

“That is for you to figure out, not me,” Ignis said simply.

“Whatever. We don’t know our purpose, but we do know what we want,” Prompto said firmly. “Here it is: we want to protect you, just as much as you want to protect us, and the others.”

“I don’t need protecting.”

“And why is that?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“No, you’re not!” Prompto exclaimed. He began to pace, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “You totally aren’t! Not all the time! You’re not making any sense, Ignis. Are you trying to tell us that you would seriously rather die than have us help you, if we could?”

Ignis said nothing.

“Do you not value your life _at all_ ? Sure, we get wanting to keep us safe. We appreciate that. We _really_ do. But we want you to be safe, too.”

“Of course I value my life, Prompto.”

“Do you _really_?”

“You don’t know a _thing_ about me,” Ignis uttered through clenched teeth.

“Yeah! That’s exactly it!” Prompto took the last few strides up to where Ignis stood at last. “We’ve spent all this time together, and for awhile we thought we hardly knew a thing about you. But now, we’re thinking that maybe, we do.” He stepped in front of Ignis, forcing the man to look him in the eye. “Ignis Scientia is a man who values his life, his worth, so _little_ , that he would rather throw it all away in favour of his pride.”

Silence.

The moment those words left his mouth, Prompto immediately regretted it. But it was too late. He couldn’t take them back; he’d released them into the wild, free to be heard by anyone. Unfortunately, there was no undo button outside the digital world, leaving him no choice but to deal with the result of his reckless words and behavior.

Ignis finally met Prompto’s gaze. He corrected his posture, standing up straight as he looked down at the shorter man in front of him, analyzing, calculating his response. “And just what do you know about life, Prompto?” Ignis asked slowly, each word slicing like one of his daggers. “What do you know about _my_ life, _my_ worth, as a human being? Is it really so important, in the grand scheme of things?”

Prompto felt like his head was spinning. “ _What?!_ ”

“My job is to protect the King,” Ignis explained. “At all costs, even at the risk of my very life. And tonight, I would have gladly given it if it meant that Noctis would be safe and able to make it to the end of his pilgrimage.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s noble and all, but---”

“I have my doubts that you would ever understand.”

“Gee, thanks. How about _talking to us_ about it, then, so we can at least try?”

“Prompto, this conversation is over.”

“Like hell it is!” Prompto shot back.

“Please stop.”

“Or what?”

Instead of replying, Ignis carried on his path, briskly disappearing into the trees.

“Ignis!” Prompto called after him, hot on his heels.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. He couldn’t let it end here. He couldn’t stand the thought of existing with the knowledge that he had potentially hurt Ignis with his words. He had to make things right - but how? He’d never had to argue with someone before - it was never a part of his base programming. All of this was new. What should he say? What even _were_ the right words? What _could_ make all of this better? Was it even possible?

He had to try. He owed it to Ignis, and himself, to at least _try_.

“Ignis, _you_ are important,” Prompto carried on, dodging a tree or two as he tried to keep up. “Your life is important. You have _so much_ worth. You have friends who care for you. They’d miss you every single day if you left them behind. _We_ would miss you if you left us behind.”

Ignis said nothing.

“So we have guns now. So we had a little bit of training. So what? What’s so wrong with having someone look out for you? Someone to protect _you,_ for once? There’s _always_ a ‘what if’ scenario, Ignis. That, back there, was _your_ ‘what if’.”

Nothing.

A horrible sensation welled up in Prompto’s chest. All at once, error messages slammed his operating system one after the other. He stumbled, palms scraping against rough tree bark as he tried to correct his balance. He forced his mind to push through the impending crash so he could attempt articulating his thoughts, to get them all out there before he could no longer speak.

“Ignis, we did what we did because we wanted to help,” he said pleadingly. ”We wanted to protect you. We wanted to be helpful, to be _useful_ . To have a purpose. Like we said---we’re sick and tired of just sitting around while everyone else puts themselves in danger. What kind of friend would we be? What kind of _person_ would we be? Do you really think we’d be content knowing that one day, you guys might never come back to the car, when we could have _done something_ about it?”

Ignis stopped walking.

“You probably think it doesn’t matter to us, because we’re not human. We’re just an A.I. We’re just… a whatever the hell we are. But it does. You told us to be brave, to be strong, to do things for ourself outside of the aquarium walls. We left that place not just for ourself, but for you. We wanted to prove to you that we were worth it. That we’re not just gonna be extra weight, being lugged around with you on your journey, for no reason. We’re not a freeloader, Ignis. We want to have worth, too.”

Still nothing.

Just then, a horrible thought crossed Prompto’s mind that he’d never wanted to think about. A worst case scenario, one that could have become a reality that day if he hadn’t stepped in when he did.

“Ignis, if you die, what happens to us?” Prompto asked softly.

Ignis remained silent, painfully still.

“Our directive revolves around you. So if you’re gone…” Prompto trailed off, then shook his head to fling that thought in another direction. “Doesn’t it make sense, then, for us to protect you?”

Ignis kept his mouth shut.

“Please, Ignis,” Prompto begged. “Say something. Anything! We don’t care what, just… say _something_.”

“I won’t die, Prompto,” Ignis complied softly. He started walking again, the crunch of leaves beneath his feet sounding in his wake.

“Maybe… maybe we just miss having a task-based directive to follow,” Prompto continued, more out of desperation to fill the silence between them than anything else. He couldn’t let this go. He didn’t _want_ to let this go. “Maybe that’s what it is. We don’t know, Ignis. We... we don’t know _what_ it is, but what we do know is… we… we...” Prompto tried desperately to choke out the words, but now his oculars were pounding, the pain in his chest spreading.

He stared helplessly as Ignis continued on through the forest in front of him. Was the man even listening? Wait. Maybe… maybe the problem wasn’t Ignis, but himself. What if what he was saying wasn’t actually making any sense? What if he was having a disconnect between his thought processes and his vocal program?

In a panic, Prompto tried to force out more words, but nothing came. None, that was, until a string of digitized consonants burst from his lips, ending with a set of words that warbled as they formed what he hoped was something resembling a structured sentence:

“I don’t want to lose you!”

Ignis stopped walking. He froze for a good minute, then slowly, he turned, making his way back over to where he’d left Prompto. Prompto, who was still struggling to hold his weight up beside the tree, looked as distressed as he sounded.

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis asked placidly as he approached him at last. In the darkness, the light from the stars above the canopy glimmered against his glasses lenses, giving way to furrowed brows and a stern lip.

“We said we don’t want to lose you,” Prompto repeated. His knees threatened to buckle out from beneath him. “Dammit, we’re really---”

“Can you please say that again?” Ignis insisted.

Prompto glared. “Are you making fun of us?”

“No, Prompto. Just say it.”

“‘We don’t want you lose you.’ There. Are you happy now?”

“No. That’s not what you said.”

“Yeah, it is? We clearly remember. It just happened seconds ago.”

“It’s similar to what you said, yes, but it’s not exact.”

“Ignis, what are you going on about?” Prompto tried to take a step forward, but with the increase in error messages, he stumbled. Ignis was quick to catch him before he could fall to the ground, holding him up on unsteady feet.

“Prompto, you very clearly said ‘I’, just now,” Ignis explained calmly. He held onto Prompto, supporting his body as the other continued swaying on his feet.

“No we didn’t,” Prompto denied quickly. His knees quaked, finding it difficult to remain upright on his own. He tried to step away from Ignis, but he couldn’t; Ignis was holding him firmly, his legs akin to gelatin.

“Yes, you did. Do you not have a log? A recording in your system that you can access, to prove it?” Ignis asked.

Prompto didn’t reply.

He chose not to, because: of course he did. Of course he had that functionality. He just... didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn't want to confirm Ignis’ claim. He dreaded what he might find written in his speech logs, as if his memory had been vandalized by a hacker.

“Ignis… we don’t feel very good,” Prompto said idly. He bit his lip as his boots slid on the dirt, eventually giving up hope that he would be able to walk on his own and just letting Ignis support his weight for him. “We’re… we’re gonna crash. Can we just... go back to the car now?” He made a pained sound. “Please?”

For a moment, Ignis looked deep in thought. Prompto wondered if he was considering just… leaving him there. To let him run his course; crash, brick, explode, who knows what was next for him. But before his mind had a chance to create a string of possible scenarios, all ending with Prompto being abandoned, Ignis nodded.

“Very well,” he agreed with a soft breath. Taking a step forward, Ignis waited for Prompto to walk alongside him with his assistance.

The walk back to the car was silent, echoes of their first argument haunting their minds like a ghost in a mansion. Prompto’s small world was spinning. That argument… it was like it had activated something abnormal in his system. He battled the error messages even now, the threat of an imminent system reboot looming over his head. He was determined to stay functioning until they at least made it back to the car, but with his legs barely working, it scared him. What he needed right now was maintenance. Badly. But would it even help? Something… was happening to him. Something that made that twisted, aching sensation in his chest remain, even as he tried desperately to will it away.

When they finally made it back to the car, Gladiolus and Noctis practically leapt from the doors, their joyful voices shouting in relief. Now with proof of Ignis being in one piece, and the answer to the mystery of Prompto disappearing from the car, the crisis was officially averted. Ignis didn’t speak much at all, and Prompto couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on around him. Prompto softly apologized for worrying everyone and slid into the back seat with Ignis’ help, slumping against the interior.

After the others had a brief bite to eat, they set off once more, down the newly cleared path they had worked so hard to secure. Ignis and Gladiolus chatted quietly to one another in the front seat, while Noctis, predictably, fell asleep the moment he made himself comfortable beside Prompto in the back.

Unable to do much else, Prompto started up his self-maintenance program, feeling sluggish as his bogged down system prevented him from doing much at all. As he rested his head against Noctis’ shoulder, he couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had just occurred, trying to pinpoint what exactly had gone wrong, and when.

However, that word, that tiny, innocent word, one he tried desperately to reject, kept repeating itself in his mind.

“I.”

No matter how badly he wanted to pretend otherwise, Prompto had said “I”. He knew he did. It should have been impossible, and yet, he’d said it. Then how? Had he been disconnected from the network for too long? Was he really infected with some sort of virus?

What was happening to him?

He… didn’t want to be singular.

_Seven…_

He was terrified.

≈

Hours later, Prompto sat bundled up in his sleeping bag, alone in the tent with only the light of his phone screen illuminating the fabric walls around him. After they had set up camp, Ignis assisted Prompto to the tent, depositing him there without a word before leaving him to his own vices. It was all right, though; Prompto couldn’t speak much, even if he’d wanted to, and he needed some time alone in order to finish his internal maintenance.

For the last phase of his optimization, Prompto performed a full system reboot, and while it quelled the error message spam for the time being, he still felt like his processor was inefficient. Program booting dragged. Speech didn’t come as easily as it should have. At this rate, it might end up taking a while before his functionality was back to 100%, but at least he was now at the haven, safe and sound and comfortable.

When Noctis and Gladiolus peeked their heads into the tent to check up on him, Prompto quickly insisted that he was fine, wanting the others to relax and enjoy their evening together. They’d earned it after the whole bomb fiasco hours prior, and… well, Prompto was sure that a certain someone wouldn’t want him around, anyway.

Prompto pulled the sleeping bag up over his lap as he scrolled through a random encyclopedia entry on his phone, listening to the sound of his friends’ chatter around the campfire closeby. Noctis and Gladiolus bickered back and forth about something silly, a song that was stuck in Gladiolus’ head, or something? Neither of them could remember the artist, apparently, but Gladiolus was _so sure_ he was right. Prompto could find out for them in a jiffy, but… he couldn’t get up right now. He didn’t _want_ to get up.

As the conversation continued on, interrupted occasionally by the crackling of embers on wood, Prompto noticed that one voice was strangely absent from the cacophony: Ignis.

Ignis.

Was he even there with the others? Or was he off sitting in the car, minding his own business? That was a likely alternative, as Prompto had taken up residence in the place Ignis usually went for his evening wind-down time.

_Maybe we should leave the tent,_ Prompto thought. _Ignis is probably exhausted. He’d want to go to bed in his actual bed. Right?_

His programming told him that he should be guilty in moments like these, and like clockwork, he felt... strange. Was this what guilt felt like?

...

He’d sure ‘felt’ a lot today.

The line between simulated emotions and what he was beginning to think was the real thing was blurring.

Logic told him that the real thing was impossible. He wasn’t human. He was mechanical. An A.I. But doubt told him otherwise; how else could he explain what he’d experienced, over and over, ever since he went to the Vesperpool? What other word could he use to describe the phenomenon, except ‘feel’?

Prompto chose not to think about it.

He drummed his fingers absently against the back of his phone. _Tap tap tap._

He shifted, the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag beneath him squeaking. He brought his legs closer to himself, leaning against his knees.

_What is Ignis doing? Is he okay?_ he thought, frowning. He lowered his phone, stretching his legs back out so he could set it in his lap.

_Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He can do whatever he wants_.

A moment passed, and it didn’t take long for him to perish that thought.

Compelled by an unknown force, he tried bringing up the Ignis information folder in his mind, but what should have been a simple command chugged along, unable to complete. Waiting, waiting, waiting.  Processing. Why was it taking so long?

Was the folder getting corrupted?

He quickly aborted the process. He didn’t dare find out.

…

Ignis hated him. That had to be it.

That was why he wasn’t here with him right now. That was why his folder wouldn’t launch.

Ignis Scientia.

Just the mere thought of his name distressed him.

Prompto whimpered, hands reaching up until fingers tangled in his hair. Despite the maintenance he’d done, something still wasn’t right. Oh, gods, was he about to crash again?

_No, no… we’ve gotta get ahold of ourself… don’t... let it happen. We’re fine. Everything is fine._

…

It had been a mistake to leave the aquarium. It had been a mistake to do something as risky as overwrite his directive. It was obvious that it had made everything unstable; he was hardly functioning properly anymore. Something wasn't right. Something happened that had made him not all right. It was wrong. All wrong.

He scrambled to pick up his phone again. He fumbled, dropping it a few times before he finally had a good hold on it, fingers grasping the case tightly. For some reason, he was filled with a desperate need to tell Sania his very important revelation via text message, despite what his logic told him, and with no context whatsoever.

She replied in seconds.

_‘Don’t be ridiculous,’_ she scolded. _‘You’re doing incredible, and I’m so proud of you. I love you bunches, sweetie. Get lots of rest and make sure Ollie stays out of trouble for me, okay?’_

Prompto read the words over and over. She seemed oddly dismissive… Oh. He glanced at the digital clock in the corner of his phone screen. It was late; he probably woke her up by accident.

‘ _We will,’_ he texted back before tucking his phone into his pocket.

He fiddled with his scarf.

_Distraction. We need a distraction._

A certain precious object caught his eye, right behind his pillows.

He reached for his camera next.

With the press of a button, endless memories instantly greeted him on the photo preview screen. Smiling faces of guests. His own smiling face, front row and centre, in the selfies with said guests. A photo of him and Sania, her eyes sparkling with amusement. A photo of the petting zoo supervisor, Dino, with a horseshoe crab in his hands, pretending to eat it (he’d always been a weird one).

Once he came to the end of that memory card, he swapped it out for another. Seeing the familiar sights of the place he’d called home since his activation date gave him comfort, and to pass the time, he sifted through each memory card from start to finish. Before he knew it, he’d gone through about ten of them; pressing the review button faster and faster each time, as if he were searching for something.

Finally, in popped the card containing the photos he’d taken during the last five years, the one he’d filled to capacity days after he’d first left the aquarium. No guests were to be seen in these photos; and as he sifted through them, he came to realize that they were rather.. repetitive.

Photos of the aquarium lobby. Photos of himself. Photos of empty tanks. Photos of the Guest Services desk, stacked with his time sheets. Photos pointing down at his boots. Photos of himself posing in front of the mural at his photo kiosk. Photos of the ceiling. Photos of the entrance to the souvenir shop, zoomed in on a t-shirt rack with no t-shirts on it. Photos of the main entrance doors. Photos of the broom he’d swept the floor with every single day.

It was all the same. No people. No joy. Just emptiness, that same deserted stage that had once been a max capacity theatre, crawling with guests, his ‘audience’. Over and over and over again.

There was nothing beautiful about these photos at all.

His finger moved from the forward button to one on the opposite side of the camera.

Delete.

He began to erase them, one by one. Gone, gone, gone, gone, their digital data destroyed, gone forever with the simple press of a button.

Ignis had been right. Tending to a deserted aquarium was hardly a job at all -- there was nothing for him there anymore.

Then where did he belong now?

He was almost at the end of the photo reel when he suddenly stopped. A familiar photo broke the repetition, jolting him out of his strange trance.

_Ignis_.

There was Ignis, standing there on his podium, the seascape mural behind him. He looked downright confused and uncomfortable, his posture completely un-Ignis-like. Beside him was Prompto Argentum, the Familiar Face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, Worldwide, grinning that world-famous wide grin of his, looking like that day had been the greatest day of his life.

And maybe it was.

His life had changed drastically that day. Moving forward, never looking back. Seeing the world. Learning things he’d never have been able to otherwise. Making friends. Living; unrestrained, unrestricted. Happily.

Living freely.

And he had Ignis to thank for that.

He turned his camera off.

He felt the need to apologize.

But he hadn’t done anything wrong. Had he?

_Apology:_

_A written or spoken expression of one's regret, remorse, or sorrow for having insulted, failed, injured, or wronged another._

He had no regrets for what he’d done; he’d saved Ignis, and that was all that mattered to him. But at the same time, he felt like he had wronged him for going against his wishes, and Ignis was clearly upset with him.

Then, he remembered: he’d said some terrible things to Ignis. Things he’d regretted.

But were those words actually wrong? Did they not hold a semblance of truth to them? Was that why Ignis was mad at him? Not even the dictionary could help him with this one.

_Why is this so complicated?!_

Before Prompto had a chance to mull over this any longer, his thoughts were interrupted by a sequence of familiar sounds.

Slow, steady footsteps; the stride of someone possessing a great deal of confidence. The slightest jingle of plastic on plastic; the zipper pull clinking against its toothy track. Then, a long _zip_ , in a circle. The flutter of fabric doors pushing forward, then settling once more. Boot soles swishing against a sheer floor.

Prompto froze. He didn’t dare look over at the tent’s entrance; he knew exactly who it was, and he knew that if he made eye contact he’d be tempted to try and bolt right past him and leave. Instead, he picked up his phone and pretended to be very invested with it, his eyes glued to the lit up screen.

_It’s fine,_ he told himself. _He’s probably just going to bed, just like we thought he would at some point. Why should we have to leave? We were here first._

_Oh, crap, he’s coming over._

_Right. Our sleeping bags are side by side. Of course they are. They always are._

_..._

_And now he’s sitting beside us._

Seated on his own sleeping bag, Ignis pulled it up over his lap and just… sat there. He reached over and tapped on the small lantern at his bedside, but otherwise did and said nothing. With no words falling from his lips, all Prompto could hear was the sound of Ignis’ breath, and the occasional shift of his limbs sliding along the smooth blankets.

Ten minutes passed.

What was Ignis even _doing?_

Prompto couldn’t help but look over at him, even if his mind screamed at him not to.

Ignis’ expression was solemn, indiscernible. His posture was anything but relaxed; he looked stiff, unapproachable, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. And yet, he made no effort to leave. He remained firmly rooted in his spot, like a tree contemplating shedding all of its leaves for autumn.

Then, the silence broke.

“Ignis?”

“Prompto.”

They spoke at the exact same time.

Then, they fell silent simultaneously.

Ignis shifted.

As did Prompto.

Ignis raised his hand to his own hair so he could push it back, a soft breath puffing from his lips.

Prompto would have let out a breath, too, if he had lungs. Instead, he tapped his fingers against his phone again, his knee bouncing subtly to the rhythm he’d created.

More silence.

…

Another ten minutes passed.

...

Prompto couldn’t take it anymore.

“We’re sorry,” he uttered softly, testing if his vocal bank could even be accessed after what his operating system had just gone through. Miraculously, it could. With his eyes downcast, it felt almost physically impossible to look at Ignis right now, as if the man would be true to his name and set him aflame if he did.

Would Ignis even reply?

“About?” Ignis asked.

_Oh._

“Everything,” Prompto vaguely clarified.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” said Ignis.

“Seriously?” Prompto scoffed, setting his phone down on the floor beside him. “Pretty sure you know.”

“I don’t.”

Prompto made a gruff sound. “You’re being an ass.”

Ignis took another breath, gradually expelling every last ounce of air from his lungs. It was a brief moment before he replied, and when he did, his entire composure had changed.

“You’re right,” Ignis spoke calmly, but despite his best efforts to mask it, his voice had an ever so faint trace of nerves. “I _am_ being an ass.”

Surprised at the admission, Prompto looked up at him again. Ignis wasn’t looking at him, his seafoam eyes staring directly ahead at nothing in particular. His hands were at his front, fingers fiddling with the buttons that lined the centre of his coat but not unfastening them.

“And in turn… it should be me doing the apologizing, not you,” Ignis continued. He brought his gloved hands to rest in his lap, an attempt to discourage his fidgeting.

“Yeah, so you’re an ass, but it doesn’t mean we had any right to say the things we did,” Prompto said, frowning. “Listen, Ignis, we---”

“ _Please_ don’t apologize, Prompto,” Ignis interrupted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But we _do_ ,” Prompto insisted.

“No.” Ignis paused. “And the reason for that is because... You were right. Everything you said to me back then… every word was true.”

Prompto said nothing, waiting for Ignis to continue.

There came another sigh. “It’s true… that I do value my life very little,” he admitted.

Prompto’s eyes widened. Hearing that confession made the all too familiar ache return to his chest, swarming like a hive of wasps. “But why?” he whispered.

“In the grand scheme of things, my existence makes very little impact,” Ignis replied simply.

Prompto’s hands balled into fists. “That’s not true,” he hissed. “Ignis… why would you even say something like that? That’s just… that’s just an awful thing to say… hell, to even _think._ Like we told you before... you have worth… you have people who would miss you if you were gone… so… why?”

“Please let me finish. I feel I owe you at the very least an explanation,” Ignis continued. ”For my whole working life, even though I had a comfortable, steady source of income and my two best friends at my side... I couldn’t help but feel that at the same time, my life encompassed a feeling I could only describe as… empty.

“For as long as I could remember, it felt as if something were missing, but I could never quite put my finger on what exactly it was. At one point I felt that, perhaps, I was merely lonely and needed to expand my world, to extend it past the confines of my comfortable, familiar bubble. Unfortunately, I quickly learned that I was unable to connect with people outside of my immediate social group, and thus my personal network remained miniscule. I may not appear so on the surface, but in reality, I can be a rather awkward person. Once upon a time, I frequently fumbled with my words; nothing but strings of verbal spaghetti falling from my lips.”

Prompto’s jaw dropped. “What? _You_? Fumble? Spaghetti avalanche? No way.”

“Yes, way,” Ignis mused. “Practice can do wonders, Prompto.”

Prompto continued to gape at him. He just couldn’t imagine it; Ignis, who was always so calm and composed… was it even possible? He knew Ignis had no reason to lie to him about something like that, but...

“Continuing on,” Ignis segued, “along with the ‘empty’ feeling, I also felt envious of my friends, peering at them through green-tinted lenses. There’s Gladio, who has a unique talent, a career in a newly founded sport that was growing rapidly in popularity. And then, of course, you have Noct, who is a public figure, and at the time, the heir to the throne. A man of prestigious blood, possessing a gift from the ancients: his blessing of magic. He is very special in many ways.”

Ignis smiled faintly then, but it lacked depth, devoid of warmth.

“And then, you have me,” he concluded lightly. “A simple, humble tailor.”

“But a tailor is awesome, Ignis,” Prompto interjected. “Thought we’d already been over this.”

“Yes, well, as much as I enjoyed my career, I often felt disappointed in myself. Before I opened my shop, I attended post-secondary school, where I studied law for a while. The plan was to become a lawyer by the time I hit my thirties, but in the end, it didn’t work out. I fell back on an old hobby of mine in order to pay the bills, as well as pay off the debt I had accumulated. It was a life… certainly, it was, but I still felt that I was destined for… more. That my talents and intellect could be used for the greater good. I then came to the conclusion that I just… did not have any worth. After all, I was a failure in my studies… if I couldn’t accomplish something I had put my all into, then what good was I?

“A tailor… when you think about it, is replaceable. A king? Even a chocobo racer? It would be difficult to find someone else to take up the mantle, especially in Noct’s case. After all, no one would miss a run-of-the-mill tailor. If my shop were to disappear, several more shops would pop up down the road to replace me in no time at all.”

“Not true,” Prompto whispered.

“Perhaps not, but when you’ve felt a certain way for so long, not even logic and fact can make you change your mind,” Ignis said idly. “And positive thinking can be nigh impossible.”

Prompto’s shoulders sank. He didn’t quite understand, but… if Ignis truly felt this way, then how could he tell him that what he was feeling was invalid?

“So when the time came to take up my new role, my duty to protect Noctis, I felt that finally, after all those years of searching, of longing, I could have worth. Finally, something I did could be considered useful; my skills would no longer be going to waste. I would take up a role that could not be filled by just anyone. And for a while, that feeling of low, practically non-existent self worth began to diminish.

“But now, after I’ve had countless hours of real-world experience, the real thing beyond the vigorous training I’d gone through… even if my role _is_ one of importance… I still found that I was disposable.”

“Why?” Prompto asked, his brows furrowing.

“Those feelings of importance that I had been longing to have, the yearning for that final piece of the puzzle to finally fall into place after waiting for _so_ _long,_ eventually began to morph, twisting back into feelings of worthlessness… yet, different somehow. I began to think to myself…  If I could give my life for Noctis’ sake, I would in turn have a purpose at last. If giving my life so Noctis would live and carry on as he was meant to… then I, in turn, would no longer be a waste of space. My sacrifice would have meaning. It would have _worth_.”

“Ignis---”

“But then, I met you,” Ignis continued slowly. “And things began to change.”

Prompto fiddled with the tassels at the end of his scarf. “How?” he inquired softly.

“Today, I realized that for some time, now, I’ve had someone other than Noctis and Gladiolus that I have a desire to protect.”

Prompto stared.

“Seeing you so suddenly on the battlefield among those dangerous daemons...  I felt like my heart was going to burst through my chest. I was terrified.”

“Ignis, we---”

“The thought of you being in any sort of danger… to put it lightly,  it makes me feel sick to my stomach. It is the last thing I would ever want to have happen.”

Prompto tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“It made me realize… that despite what my mind had been telling me my whole life, these newfound feelings were proof that somehow, right under my nose, I had become capable of connecting with another person again. Someone who wasn’t Noctis or Gladio. Spending time with you… conversing with you on a regular basis…  I haven’t felt this way since I was a child, when I first met them. It’s been wonderful. I’ve felt… happy. I don’t recall ever laughing, or even smiling, this much since we’d first met, back at the aquarium.”

Ignis took a breath.

“In summation,” he concluded, “I don’t ever want to lose that feeling again.” He paused, taking another breath. “What it all boils down to… is that essentially… I don’t want to lose you.”

Prompto’s chest ached. He froze, his hands clutching the end of his scarf.

“And in turn, it made me act and speak selfishly,” Ignis added. “Not once did I ever consider how you may have felt about the ‘rules’ I’d set; and for that, I deeply apologize.”

“It’s fine, Ignis. We understand,” Prompto whispered. “You were just… making sure we stayed safe.”

“About our… discussion earlier. It also opened my eyes and helped me realize… that maybe I do have worth, after all.” Ignis stretched his legs out beneath the sleeping bag, his posture finally taking on one more relaxed. “Am I simply one human being of many on this planet, one insignificant speck in the expanse of this massive universe? Yes. However, this does not change the fact that to the people that matter… I could very well be as significant, as _important_ , as the very moon in the sky to them.”

Prompto smiled. “Or… the sun,” he suggested. “Hence the fiery name.”

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, or the sun. Whichever one has precedence to the person in question.”

“The sun’s the most important one of all, right? Why else would Noct be working so hard to bring it back?” Prompto brought his hands together, lifting them in an encouraging stance.

“You’re right. Of course.” A small smile spread on Ignis’ face.

Prompto never wanted it to leave.

“So, to continue on with that previous train of thought… with disregard for your own feelings, I forced you to act according to my own desires, in order to preserve you by keeping you out of danger. I never once thought that I would be holding you back, making _you_ feel, in turn, useless. And for that, I apologize. Your desire to keep me safe mirrors my own to do the same for you… thus, with like minded goals, who am I to keep you from doing what you feel is right?”

Prompto turned to face Ignis properly at last. “Wait. So you’re saying…” he began.

“...that you no longer have to stay behind when I and the others depart for battle,” Ignis finished.

Prompto’s entire expression seemed to glow. This was what he had wanted the whole time, but… “Are... are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course I’m sure.” Ignis shifted closer Prompto, their proximity being so that the sides of their legs nearly touched. “Prompto, fighting alongside you… in so many words, it was… a thrill.”

Prompto’s glow turned into a spotlight beam. “So it wasn’t just us,” he said, the excitement growing in his voice. “You felt it, too.”

“Indeed.”

Prompto pressed his hands together. “Oh, man. Ignis, like… that was our first real fight, but… we don’t know, it was like… we were meant to be there.”

“Yes,” Ignis agreed.

“You and ourself….” Prompto trailed.

“...were dancing to the same song,” Ignis finished.

“Yes!” Prompto clapped his hands together in glee.

Ignis laughed warmly at the display.

“Totally!” Prompto exclaimed. “We thought that, too. It was like… you’d somehow found a way to connect to us directly. Like, to our system, and---”

“---we were completely in sync,” Ignis finished once more. “I stepped one way, you stepped the other, without missing so much as a beat. No verbal cues were needed; we moved as one.”

Prompto’s smile split into a grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah… it was… really… great. We’ve never felt that way before, ever. It was like… sorry, we can’t really describe it properly, but… We felt like… we had a purpose again. Like... we weren’t a waste of space anymore.”

Ignis nodded. “Perhaps we really are more alike than we thought,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.” Prompto’s moment of high energy dissipated, slowly, lost among the whirlwind of thought processes occupying his mind.

Another moment of silence passed between them. This time, it wasn’t an awkward silence; it was a positive. A thoughtful silence.

“To us…” Prompto’s voice came barely a whisper. Something prevented him from continuing right then, but he forced through it. “ _You_ are the sun, Ignis.”

Silence.

And then, there came the faintest brush of fingertips against a hand.

Prompto looked up, wide-eyed at the man beside him.

Ignis’ hand.

On his own.

Then, they locked into place, fingers twined like a net.

How was it that Ignis’ fleeting touch was so gentle?

How was it that Ignis’ fingers slid so neatly between his own, as if the spaces between his fingers fit Ignis’ perfectly?

And then, there it was again. That strange, warm sensation; one that spread through his chest, along his shoulders, and this time, it seemed to settle in the very pit of his stomach.

He was drowning.

Prompto was drowning.

Before he could become lost to the world, he looked up. There, just barely visible in the murky waves was a hand, reaching for him, calling for him. He desperately treaded water, propelling himself upward as he reached above. His fingers brushed against it, against that familiar gloved hand that dipped just past the water’s surface, breaking past the line that divided the ocean from the sky.

He squeezed that hand, and for a moment, he swore he could feel its kind warmth.

No. He did. He felt it. He _felt_ that warmth.

He felt safe.

He felt like he belonged.

They held hands for some time, no further words uttered between them. Neither of them dared risk ruining the moment.

That was, until Prompto spoke at last.

“We... really should apologize for interfering so suddenly, though,” Prompto said, eyes fixed on their hands. “It could have been bad news if we really did distract you, like you’d said.”

“I’m very glad that you did what you did, Prompto,” Ignis spoke. “What you told me earlier… you were absolutely right. That meadow would likely have become my final resting place if you hadn’t arrived when you did. If only I had allowed you to join us all sooner…” He sighed. “I’m just… stubborn, I suppose.”

Prompto smiled. “Yeah, you are.”

“And so are you,” Ignis quipped.

“Heh… yeah, we are. Guess that’s why we get along so well, huh?” Prompto gave him a nudge of the elbow.

“Perhaps so.”

“We… do make a pretty good team, huh?”

“Certainly.”

“We mean in battle.”

“As did I.”

“And we guess in general, too. You and us. Directive Buddies, right?”

Ignis laughed softly. “Yes,” he said warmly. Affection radiated from him now; gone was the cold wall of ice he’d erected between them. Prompto had managed to melt it at last.

Right then, the clasp of their hands grew firmer, and it wasn’t of his own doing. Prompto swore he could feel it; swore he could _really_ feel it, beyond his basic pressure-sensing capability.

Warm.

Ignis hands… were warm.

He _could_ feel it.

Prompto curled his fingers around Ignis’ hand, clasping it like it really was the lifeline hand from above the ocean’s surface.

He never wanted to let it go.

…

Prompto wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there, what with neither of them making an attempt to break their current position, but the evening waned.

“Hey, Ignis.”

“Yes, Prompto?”

“What does it mean when we hold hands like this?”

Ignis lifted their hands up, still clinging to one another as if they were a single unit. His green eyes studied them thoughtfully, head tilting ever so slightly.

“Prompto, you were the one who has always made a point to take my hand on a regular basis,” Ignis said lightly. “Are you saying that you’ve been doing so, and frequently at that, without even knowing what such a gesture means?”

Prompto scrunched his nose. “Yeah, well… we don’t really know why?” he admitted. “It’s not like holding hands was something that was ever programmed into us when we were a customer service bot. So we guess it just… happened? It… felt like the right thing to do, and… you never rejected it, so… we just kept doing it?” He paused. “Do… you want us to stop?”

Ignis shook his head. “No, Prompto. It’s fine.” He smiled faintly. “But you’re not wrong. It does feel right, doesn’t it? To hold hands… it’s an act of intimacy. I suppose if I were to define its meaning, I would say… it means that we are dear to one another.”

_To be dear to._

Just this once, Prompto did a quick Moogle search for the definition.

As he watched their hands, studying the fine stitching that ran along the seams of Ignis’ glove, Prompto smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah… we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I implore you all to take a look at the [beautiful piece of art](https://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com/post/173647058268/ai-am-human-chapter-1-this-breathtaking) that [Del drew](http://delborovic.tumblr.com) again, as I finally got to describe that imagery in this chapter!! It's also filled with metaphors of things to come, so please look forward to it. <3)


	12. RAISON D’ÊTRE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone please take a look at this [absolutely STUNNING drawing I commissioned from my friend SuWan](http://chocosand.tumblr.com/post/180558973316/ethereal)!! I can't stop looking at it, just like how Ignis is unable to look away from Prompto!
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter :) I love you all.

DATA LOG #12: RAISON D’ÊTRE  


Prompto was incapable of sleeping, but he found that his desire to know what it was like had grown exponentially as of late.

When Ignis had fallen asleep the previous night, he had taken Prompto in his arms, holding him close despite Prompto not being able to offer any warmth of his own. Ignis was warm enough for the both of them, their shared sleeping bags like a chamber, a comfortable cocoon. With his head resting against Ignis’ chest in place of a pillow, Prompto listened to the soft rising and falling of his breath, and the steady, almost calming, beating of his heart.

On occasion, his breath would hitch, and he would stir, just a little. Legs shifting. Arms sliding from Prompto’s waist, only to readjust themselves snugly, embracing him much like one of the small children back at the aquarium after leaving the souvenir shop with a plush toy.

Was he dreaming? Prompto wondered what Ignis dreamed about. Maybe he would ask him sometime.

Prompto wondered what he, himself, would dream about, if he could. Just for fun.

In the confines of his dream world, where anything was possible, air would expel from Prompto’s lungs with every word he spoke and every laugh he gave. His heart would flutter whenever he ran, or when that feeling he recognized as nerves would travel through his chest and stomach like a drag of thorny vines on skin.

He would eat a meal, finally taste the gourmet food that Ignis cooked for himself and the others on a regular basis. He would smile with them, laugh with them, and compliment the chef for the delicious food. He would drool from the sensations on his taste buds, and his stomach would gurgle in a pleasant rumble. He would eat until he couldn’t eat anymore, with a declaration of “Wooo, we’re _stuffed_!” while patting his full stomach, much like Gladiolus did.

If Prompto could dream, he would dream of being human. Not the simulation that he was in the real world; he would be… _real._ Flesh and blood and bone. He would bleed if he tripped and fell, he would cry real tears if he was in pain.

Or, maybe, he’d cry tears of happiness, too.

To truly feel the tingly sensation of touch, of warmth, of frigid air, against his skin. To get goosebumps. To have the hair on his arms stand on end, his body giving an involuntary shudder as a chill runs down his spine.

If Prompto could dream… he was sure he would dream of Ignis.

Would things be different between them if he were ‘real’?

As he lay there with Ignis, he spent a good amount of time thinking. He was still thinking, long after Gladiolus and Noctis had left the tent. He continued to think until the voice he’d wanted to hear the most brought him back to reality.

“Good morning, Prompto.”

It came from above, just inches from the top of his head.

Prompto gave his best imitation of a tired smile as he turned slightly, looking up at his companion. “Hey,” he whispered. “Didja have a good sleep?”

Ignis gave a tired smile of his own before he nodded, his body shifting slightly as he stretched his legs out beneath the sleeping bags. “Very much so,” he replied. “And yourself?”

Prompto laughed. “You know we don’t sleep, Ignis. But yeah. Sure. We slept. And it was the best sleep ever.”

Ignis’ smile remained. “I feel inclined to agree.”

Then, his arms embraced Prompto tightly, just for a moment, until one fell away from his hip. Prompto felt gentle pressure to the back of his head next.

A hand.

That hand caressed his hair, long fingers tousling his blond strands, before it fell stationary, remaining in its place. It then applied the softest of force, Prompto’s face in turn lightly pressing to Ignis’ chest.

Normally by now, Ignis would have moved away, slid free of the blankets so he could get his day started. Put his glasses back on, changed into clean clothes, fixed up his hair, left the tent so he could start making some breakfast. And yet today, for some reason, he appeared to have no intention of leaving.

Prompto felt an additional faint touch to the top of his head.

Ignis’ chin.

…

Prompto wasn’t sure what was happening.

But… he decided he liked it.

Being close to Ignis like this.

He… really liked it.

He was warm.

“Ignis?” Prompto asked in a small voice.

“Yes, Prompto?” The hand buried in his hair shifted. Fingers then lifted the longer side of his hair, stroking it, letting it fall back into place, only to repeat once more.

“We, uh…” Blanks. Nothing but blanks. What was he even wanting to say?

“Is everything all right?” came Ignis’ voice again.

“...more than all right,” Prompto replied softly. “But uh… don’t you have to go do... breakfast stuff now?”

A soft hum. “Judging from the faint aroma that has wafted into the tent, it appears Gladio and Noct have already taken care of that.”

“Oh.” Prompto paused. He had no sense of smell, so he’d just have to take Ignis’ word for it. “But what about you? You must be starving, right? Don’t you wanna go eat and join the others?”

“I’m afraid I’m a little tied up at the moment,” said Ignis.

Prompto blinked. He lifted his head, peering down at what he could see of the other among the blankets. “...we don’t comprehend. We… don’t see any ties?”

Ignis gave another thoughtful hum. “It’s a figure of speech, Prompto. In this context, it means that I have little to no interest in moving or ceasing my current activities.”

Prompto’s thought processes were practically buzzing. _Query, query, query._

“...why?” he managed.

“I’m enjoying this very much,” said Ignis calmly.

All at once, Prompto felt strange. It was similar to the feeling he had whenever he saw Ignis smile, when he heard him laugh, only… more intense. It felt… comfortable. Almost exciting, for some reason.

Prompto didn’t dare move. He remained in place, allowing Ignis to hold him close, as he was. “So… is this kinda like the hand-holding thing?” he asked.

“I suppose in a way, yes.”

“Like… a one-up?”

Ignis chuckled. “Yes.”

“So like… this is the ultimate form of hand-holding. Uh. An... arm-body holding?”

Ignis’ chuckle grew to a laugh. “Prompto, this is called ‘cuddling’.”

“Oh,” said Prompto.

 _‘Cuddling’_.

Prompto turned his body slightly so he could move an arm around Ignis in return, mimicking what the other had done to himself. He didn’t know if he’d done it ‘right’, but Ignis didn’t tell him otherwise, so he assumed that maybe he was just an arm-body holding pro already.

“...do you like cuddling, Ignis?” Prompto asked curiously.

“Yes,” Ignis said curtly.

“We’ve decided that we do, too.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Prompto took a moment to process before speaking again. “It feels… special, somehow.”

“You’re right,” Ignis said. “It is special.”

“You don’t do this… ‘cuddling’ thing with the others, do you?”

“Heavens no.”

“Then why…?” Prompto trailed off.

No answer came. And rather than press the topic, Prompto silently mulled over this new information, attempting to put together a logical explanation on his own.

_Why?_

That word repeated itself over and over in the chambers of his mind. He decided to take his own interactions with the others in their group in consideration, and in doing so he realized that he and Ignis once again had more in common than he’d first thought. Prompto never took Noctis’ hand. Nor Gladiolus’. Could he possibly ‘cuddle’ Noctis like this? Or Gladiolus? No. He didn’t think so. Taking that into account, it was therefore logical that maybe… there was a reason why these sorts of things only happened between the two of them exclusively. He’d said it himself: something about this… about _them_ , was in so many words: _special_.

_‘To be dear to’._

Prompto hugged Ignis a little tighter.

“How is your system doing?” Ignis asked after a short moment had passed.

“It’s… better,” Prompto replied. “Not quite 100%, but it’s a lot better than it was yesterday. Guess arguing kinda makes us glitch out, huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. We were probably due for another crash, anyway. It was just a matter of time. You just helped us get it out of the way sooner.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t crash at all. Is it really all right for you to be so far away from the maintenance console?”

“That won’t help with a crash. That’s just for routine maintenance, and administrative stuff. It’s more of a preventative.”

“What happens if you don’t recover?”

Prompto pursed his lips. “That’ll probably never happen, but if it does, all you have to do is boot us up into admin mode or whatever and poke around. Eventually we’ll fix ourself. You’ve still got that handy-dandy keycard, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then no sweat.”

Ignis’ hand stroked his hair again. Prompto pressed closer to him.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked.

“Yeah?” Prompto lifted his head.

“You really did say ‘I’ yesterday,” Ignis said.

…

Ah, of course.

Of _course_ he had to address the Catoblepas in the room.

Prompto scrunched his nose. “Did we?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

“That’s never happened before, has it?”

“Nope. But we’re still pretty sure that you were just imagining things.”

“I have an impeccable memory, Prompto.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Indeed.”

“Then prove it,” Prompto challenged.

“...I can’t.”

Prompto grinned. “No proof, didn’t happen.”

Ignis was pensive, then his expression softened. “About those data logs you have in your mind, Prompto…” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“No response available,” Prompto said quickly.

“Prompto.” Ignis’ tone was light. Playful. “Logs?” He shifted, his hand moving from Prompto’s hair to his chin, tilting it upward so he could meet his gaze.

“We don’t comprehend,” Prompto sing-songed. He was still grinning, an amused glint in his mechanical eyes.

Ignis chuckled. “Prompto---”

“Nooooo response available!”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you. Now, how about those logs?” Ignis asked again. His eyes scrunched a little the more his smile grew. Prompto couldn’t help but notice the flash of white, perfect teeth peeking between his lips. “You’ve said that you keep an automatic record of everything you see and hear on a daily basis, do you not? Now, wouldn’t that be just what would prove---”

“We do not comprehend,” Prompto interrupted in his best deadpan voice. “Please clearly state your command. If the problem persists, please contact your local system administrator.”

“Ah, but technically, I’m your local system administrator now,” Ignis mused.

“Unknown command,” Prompto continued, moving his head side to side jerkily, like a cartoon robot. “Please try again. If the problem persists---”

“Prompto.”

“Invalid command! Please try again later!” he crooned.

Ignis’ voice warbled just a little from a pending laugh, daring to break free. “Don’t make me get out the keycard, now.”

“Oooh, scary,” Prompto said, his tone returning to normal. He quirked an eyebrow, giving Ignis a look. “What’re you gonna do? _Scan_ us to death?”

Ignis stared at Prompto, his lips quivering as he tried to keep a straight face. That tease of a laugh was winning the battle, and despite his best efforts to prevent it, it was no use; the purest form of joy was soon born from his chest. Ignis laughed loudly, shoulders shaking as his hand fell from Prompto’s face. He pressed it to Prompto’s shoulder instead, fingers grasping the fabric of his jacket. He sounded cheerful. Happy. Then, as if automatic, Prompto laughed as well, his higher toned voice blending together with Ignis’ as one joyful melody. Prompto couldn’t help but wonder if Ignis really _was_ a virus, because it was evident that his laugh was infectious.

Prompto felt that hand on his shoulder gently press against him, coaxing him to roll over onto his back. Ignis, now leaning over him, looked down with green eyes shimmering and a bright, fond smile on his face. He said nothing; he just studied Prompto’s visage, counting his freckles, maybe, or perhaps there was another reason for it, Prompto wasn’t sure.

No words spoken, no movement; they were frozen in time.

Maybe there was something about the sparse lighting in the tent, how it highlighted the slopes and curves of their faces in a dim, shadowy glow. Maybe it was the mood, the way the two of them seemed to share the same warmth, in perfect sync with one another, like the dance they’d had in battle. Whatever it was, something about it all made Prompto see Ignis in a completely different light. It was as if the sun had just returned to Eos, the dawn breaking across the sky in gorgeous brushstroke hues that reflected against the gentle rolling waves of the ocean. Above the surface, looking down at him just past the water’s edge, was Ignis Scientia, his features kissed by the light as if he were some kind of otherworldly God.

Ignis, Prompto realized, was handsome.

 _Sania was right_ , he thought. _He really is a ‘tall glass of water’._

_Emphasis on the ‘tall’ descriptive word in that idiom._

_..._

_And humans are like, 80% water too, right? Then maybe that figure of speech holds more truth than we thought._

Before Prompto could further question this revelation, Ignis’ face moved closer.

Closer, still.

Their faces... were so close. Prompto felt a soft brush of heat, Ignis’ breath, against his cheek. His chin. His nose.

He was… so _close_.

If Prompto had a heart, surely it would be racing right now.

Then, before his eyes, came a flash of red.

Numbers.

‘92’.

…

“Ninety-two?” Ignis repeated.

“Huh?” Prompto squeaked. He’d lost his hold on reality for a second, his mind briefly wiped as clean as a blank slate. His vision pixelated, then rearranged itself until it was back to normal.

“You just said ninety-two,” Ignis explained. His features tensed, his smile daring to turn into a frown.

Instead, it was Prompto who frowned. Confusion bubbled up. He had no memory of this. ‘ _Ninety-two_ ’? Had he really said that? Why couldn’t he remember?

“We did?” he asked. He moved his hands to Ignis’ shoulders, as if holding onto him would help ground his memories. His mind spun, running a search in his system for a possible explanation.

“Yes,” Ignis said.

...

Nothing came up.

“Weird,” Prompto said. He chewed on his lip, eyes darting to the side.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Ignis asked. And there it was: that look of concern, that slight pensive frown that Ignis wore when he fussed over Noctis’ health.

“We’ve… we’ve never been better, Ignis,” Prompto insisted. He looked back into Ignis’ eyes, his smile crooked and sheepish. “Seriously.”

Ignis’ expression softened. “Neither have I,” he whispered.

Prompto wasn’t sure what came over him right then, but something compelled him to move his arm up and around Ignis’ neck. He stared into his eyes. Parted his lips.

Ignis moved closer. Their noses brushed together, ever so slightly.

And then…

“You guys are _still_ in bed?”

...there was Noctis.

Prompto had never seen Ignis move faster than he had right then. Ignis sprung away from him quickly, as if Prompto had given him an electric shock. Sitting up, Ignis reached to the side, hastily patting the floor as he tried to locate his spectacles.

“Morning, Noct,” Prompto called cheerfully. He sat up a little more casually, a crooked smile on his face. “Didja have fun scouting or whatever you were off doing?”

“ _Dude_ ,” was all Noctis said. He stood between the parted fabric doors of the tent, clad in his usual heavy green parka. For once, he looked anything but tired; his eyes were as bright as his smile, and for a second Prompto swore he was faintly vibrating. Did humans vibrate on a regular basis? Maybe his friend needed some maintenance.

“Dude?” Prompto repeated. He cocked his head to the side, not unlike a curious puppy.

“Prompto, you’ve _got_ to see this,” Noctis urged, his knees buckling in a stationary hop. His excitement brimmed through him like lightning. Gesturing over his shoulder, he continued. “Gladio and I found literally the greatest thing ever. You’ve just… gotta come see, okay? You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Er… uh…” Prompto stuttered, hesitant to the request. He knew he didn’t need to have Ignis’ permission to do anything; he wasn’t bound to him, as they’d previously discussed, but… considering the moment they’d just been sharing and all, he felt it would be rude to just… leave. But when he glanced over at the man at his side, Ignis seemed to be in another world.

Busy rifling through his belongings, Ignis pulled various clothing items from his bag one by one, dropping them without a care onto the sleeping bag. Looking for one article in particular, maybe? It was strange; Ignis was always so organized. To think he didn’t have his clothing bag organized was wildly out of character for him. And on top of it all, he wasn’t looking at, let alone acknowledging, Noctis at all. For him not to say so much as a “Good morning”, was also bizarre in itself.

Was… Ignis okay?

With Ignis unresponsive, Prompto decided to take the initiative. “Uh, sure.” He got to his feet. “Where?”

“We’ll be back in a while, Ignis,” Noctis said vaguely. He turned, taking a step back out of the tent.

Ignis lifted his head. “Noct?” he said at last, as if he’d just tuned in to a TV show halfway through. “What’s going on?”

Noctis stopped in his tracks, pivoting on his heels. “It’s not far! Really!” he insisted. “It’s maybe… fifteen? Twenty minutes away on foot? So it’s not like we’re going to be too far away. And besides, we won’t be long. Promise.”

“Noct, need I remind you of what occurred just yesterday? We’re in daemon country,” Ignis warned. “It doesn’t matter how far away you are - going anywhere on foot, alone, is not recommended.”

“Don’t worry about it, man. Gladio and I gave this area the all-clear. There’s no daemons in sight. The haven’s power extends pretty far, I guess.”

Ignis sighed. “Very well. But please, wherever it is you’re going, be careful.”

“We’ll see you later, Ignis. Okay?” Prompto said. The look he had on his face clearly showed his guilt; he didn’t really want to leave Ignis. But Noctis’ excitement was contagious. If he was _that_ excited about whatever it was he wanted to show him, then he _had_ to go, or else he wouldn’t be able to get the intrigue of mystery out of his mind.

Ignis smiled. “Have fun, Prompto.”

“By the way, Iggy. Gladio wanted to see you. Said something about needing a hand?” Noctis shrugged. “He’s kinda spacey today. Maybe he wants to train.”

“Training wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Ignis replied. “I have noticed that Gladio has been having a difficult time keeping himself entertained as of late. It would also help burn off some steam, get some exercise. We could always use more of that, no thanks to all the driving we do.”

While Prompto made his way over to the tent door, he interjected, “Oh, oh, maybe you guys could... We dunno… do a dance.”

Ignis stared. “I beg your pardon?”

Oops. Had he said something weird again?

“Oh, uh,” Prompto began. “We read that once. On the internet.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow.

“It said, and we quote: dancing can be a great way to not only burn calories, but to have fun and socialize at the same time!” Prompto clarified. When Ignis still said nothing, he added, “You know… _dance._ ” He raised his hands, his hips giving a little shake side-to-side. That was what humans called ‘dancing’, right? He was no expert or anything, but---

Ignis moved a hand to his mouth, suppressing a laugh.

“Betcha didn’t know that Gladio loves dancing,” Noctis chimed in. “Believe it or not, the guy’s got the moves.”

“Really?” Prompto’s eyes widened.

“Totally.” Noctis grinned cheekily, his arms crossed over his chest.

“So, like, he goes to those… what are they called…” Prompto snapped his fingers, trying to recall the word. His system sure was sluggish today. “...’discos’ all the time, and ‘gets down and gets funky’?”

“ _All the time_ ,” Noctis insisted.

Prompto’s entire being lit up like a firefly, clapping his hands together. “Ignis, now you’ve _gotta_ go.”

Ignis just stared at the pair like they’d each popped out a third eye, but soon his lips split in a smile. “A wonderful idea, Prompto,” he said. “I’ll be sure to keep a log of how many times we complete a full ‘boogie cycle’, then provide you with the full report upon your return.”

“ _Sweet_.”

“Anyway,” Noctis interrupted, “we better get out of here before Prompto decides he wants a fully custom sequined disco suit. We’ll see you later, Ignis. Text if you need us.” Noctis turned again to take his leave, gesturing for Prompto to follow after him.

“Will do,” Ignis replied. Ignis’ eyes were downcast again, focusing on what his hands were doing. Fiddling with a pair of socks, he kept pairing and unpairing the garments, over and over.

Did Ignis have a system crash yesterday, too?

“Hey, Ignis?” Prompto asked.

“Yes, Prompto?” Ignis looked up at him.

Once more, their eyes met.

Prompto froze.

He wanted to say something. Something. _Anything_. But the problem was… what?

As seafoam blended with moon-kissed ocean blue, the pair lingered in a shared silence as emotions crackled and popped like the embers in the outside campfire. Something continued to hold Prompto back, stalling him from leaving Ignis’ side. He knew Ignis was someone who didn’t like having his time wasted, and yet…

Prompto couldn’t find the words he’d wanted.

As an alternative, to fill the silence, he repeated what Noctis had just said. “We’ll… see you later.”

Ignis nodded.

“Enjoy,” he gave in response.

It wasn’t until the sound of Noctis’ voice chirped from outside the tent that the trance broke, the spell dissipating from the air. Prompto waved sheepishly, ducking down to quickly nab his camera on the way out.

≈

“Whoa.”

“Neat, right?”

“Noct, this is…”

“I know. Weird, isn’t it? It looks like---”

Not far from their campsite, beside a small patch of trees, resided a small lake. Lining its circumference were bushes and other flora, giving way to a small path that led to a rickety wooden structure; a dock. It was missing a plank here and there, but otherwise stood sturdily, meeting the lake from the shore to the middle. The water itself looked almost crystal clear, which was bizarre in itself; it shone like crystals under the star-studded blanket of the sky above, and beneath its steady surface sparkled a dim glow of neon blue light.

“---bioluminescent algae,” Prompto finished simply.

Noctis blinked. “Huh. Is that what it’s called?”

“Totally, dude. Check this out.”

Prompto approached the lake’s edge, kneeling beside it as he brushed his hand delicately through the shallow water. Like fireworks, the glowing blue light suddenly burst brightly through the water’s motions, erupting like a sparkler on Eos Day.

“Whoa,” Noctis said.

Prompto grinned. “We know, right? It’s a phenomenon found only in certain bodies of water. The sediments and chemicals and stuff have to be _just right_ for it to form. Like the ingredients in a perfect cocktail. It’s kinda weird for it to be here, though, since there hasn’t been any sun for a long time, but maybe it just learned to evolve and adapt to its new environment.”

“Huh,” Noctis repeated. He walked over to join Prompto at his side, kneeling so he could give it a try. He looked apprehensive at first, but with Prompto’s coaxing he eventually went for it. In his fingertips’ wake, the water lit up like the soon to be grin on his face, a ribbon of blue that faded in seconds. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, awestruck. “Did they have stuff like this back at the aquarium?”

Prompto nodded, taking his camera in his hands so he could capture some shots while Noctis played with the water. “A lot of the wildlife we had at the aquarium came from places like this,” he said. “But the staff never could quite replicate the conditions for the algae to form there. It was too bad; the kids would have loved it.”

“You sure know a lot about aquatic life, Prom,” said Noctis. He was grinning, clearly enjoying himself as he made the water light up in a staggered pattern. Prompto made sure to get a photo of that, especially.

Prompto shrugged nonchalantly. “It came with the job. Though we researched a lot of stuff that didn’t really apply to the aquarium directly.”

“So you’re a fan of underwater life, huh.”

“We guess so.”

“Then…” Noctis stood back up, gesturing toward the dock. “Wanna go fishing?”

“Fishing?” Prompto asked. _Fishing... fishing... Right_. He knew what fishing was. Humans went out on boats and sat on docks to catch fish for recreation and sometimes to eat, though in their case, there was one little thing missing. “But wouldn’t you need---”

“Yep,” Noctis grinned wide. “Follow me.”

The pair headed for the decrepit dock together. With careful footing, they stepped along the wooden planks, testing each one to make sure it hadn’t rotted too badly to support their weight. When they arrived at the end of the wooden path, they sat down, legs dangling over the edge. Prompto watched his friend curiously, and before his eyes Noctis summoned a fishing rod and tackle box in a flash of blue, much like their weapons in battle.

“A weapon?” Prompto asked.

“For fish, I guess,” Noctis smiled crookedly.

There were so many mysteries surrounding his friend, and Prompto still had no idea what questions he was and wasn’t allowed to ask, as per Ignis’ guidance. But this… the enigma that was his friend’s strange power made him unable to stop himself from inquiring. How was Noctis able to materialize objects out of thin air? At first he wondered if the weapons themselves were magic, but now with the evidence of it not being limited to objects in battle, Prompto now thought that maybe it was a portal to another realm; a celestial storage unit of sorts.

“What else do you have stored in…” Prompto began. He made a face, then gestured in a circle in front of him. “... whatever _that_ is?”

Noctis shrugged. “Anything I want.”

“So you could shove Gladio in there if he annoys you?”

Noctis laughed while he sifted through his tackle box’s contents. “God, I wish. But no. Organic stuff doesn’t work. Like food. Or, uh, people.”

“So it’s kinda like… a magical closet.”

“I guess? I can’t really explain it.”

“Huh. Your magic really is something,” Prompto remarked.

“Eehhhhh,” Noctis groaned, waving his hand in dismissal. “Nah. It’s just weird.”

“Well, we think it’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

Prompto watched as Noctis prepped his fishing line, then cast it out into the water in front of them.

“So… fishing,” Prompto said idly. “How did you get into it?”

“My old man used to take me fishing all the time when I was a kid,” Noctis answered.

“Is that why he brought you to the aquarium all those years ago?”

“Yeah. He knew how excited I got every time he actually caught a fish, so of course the next best thing was to bring me to a place filled with fish. Why not, right?”

“Gotcha. We definitely see the logic. Where else can you get up close and personal with all kinds of slippery, colourful new friends?” Prompto wiggled his fingers in front of himself, like a sea anemone’s tendrils.

“Heh. Can’t think of anywhere else.” Noctis kicked his feet before he reeled in his line, then cast it in another direction. “Y’know, I hardly even remember that day…” He pulled out his phone, the screen casting a light when it was activated. His lock screen was still the photo Prompto had given him of Noctis and his father. He regarded it fondly for a moment before tucking his phone back in his pocket. “But what I do remember was pretty great. Dad was in a really good mood... He was happy. He didn’t often get free time to himself, and when he did, he ended up working through said time anyway. So that was a special occasion.”

“You guys are like… all... royal-y , right?” Prompto asked curiously. “So did you have to have bodyguards follow you around all the time, like in that movie we watched the other night?”

“We did. I hated it though. It made me feel so weird. I always had to have someone with me whenever I left the citadel. Like I was always being babysat.” Noctis made a face. “Even when I was a teenager. It was the worst.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It was, but eventually I convinced my dad that having Ignis and Gladio with me was good enough. My dad trusted Ignis, even though he wasn’t technically a noble, and my dad was friends with Gladio’s dad, so he knew that I was in good hands.”

“That’s a lotta trust.”

“Gladio’s dad is like my unofficial uncle. The two were really close, so I always saw him around. That was how Gladio and I first met, when we were really little.”

“We’re glad you met.” Prompto smiled.

“Me too. As much as he drives me bonkers sometimes, I really can’t imagine my life without the big oaf.”

“Was Gladio always so… big?”

Noctis laughed. “No. Believe it or not, he was almost as shrimpy as I was when we were kids. It wasn’t until high school when he started training for the family business that he started getting massive. Even when he dropped out to take on chocobo racing, he still kept up the weight training because he liked exercising.”

“Is his dad massive too?”

“Clarus doesn’t quite have the muscles, but he’s fit. Cool thing is that he and Gladio have that same tattoo.”

“Oh, you mean the bird?”

“Yep. Kind of a family tradition. Apparently his little sister Iris has got it now, too.”

“So, does your dad have any badass tattoos?”

Noctis paused. “No,” he said softly. “No he didn’t. He always thought they were kind of gaudy. But then again, being the king meant that you had to be presentable at all times, even if your clothes covered up the tattooed skin. He always clicked his tongue whenever he saw Gladio parade around without his shirt on.”

“So you can’t get tattoos either?”

“Technically, one can’t tell me otherwise, but… Dad wouldn’t have liked it, so…” Noctis sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he stared out at the water, holding his rod with a solemn expression on his face.

One little detail kept sticking out to Prompto like a sore thumb.

Noctis… always spoke of his father in the past tense.

He felt compelled to ask him why, but he knew that it was likely a sensitive subject, one that he felt he knew the answer to already, deep down. But in his quest for knowledge about his friend, he decided to ask him anyway, bracing himself for the potentially awkward mood to follow. He silently apologized to Noctis before speaking.

“Hey, Noct. Is your dad…” Prompto trailed off.

To his surprise, Noctis answered right away.

“...yeah,” Noctis breathed. “Yeah. He’s… he’s gone. He… passed away.” He wriggled uncomfortably on the dock. “It’s been... years, now.”

Prompto shifted, crossing one leg over the other. “We’re really sorry for your loss,” he replied in a soft voice.

“...so am I,” Noctis muttered.

In the moonlight, the water below their feet looked beautiful; insects flitted and danced along the surface like an ice arena, the occasional fish darting by in a laser of neon blue from the algae activating. Prompto could hear the distant gurgling of a frog or two, likely hiding beneath the brush of tall grass nearby. There came a small _sploosh_ to his right; maybe the frogs had gone for a swim? He wondered if they were relatives of Carl.

He slid his frog keychain out from his pocket and gave it a squish.

_Croak._

He smiled a little.

While Prompto continued to lose himself to the atmosphere, a good fifteen or so minutes had passed. He knew that it wasn’t always a bad thing to have moments of silence when engaging in conversation with people, but right now, it didn’t feel quite right, what with the previous subject weighing down on the air. But just when Prompto considered saying something to break the silence between them, Noctis spoke before he could.

“So, Prompto,” he began. “Tell me… are you enjoying your time with us all so far?”

Prompto nodded. “We are,” he chirped. “It’s been great. We… feel really happy to be a part of your group… even if up until recently we were just a freeloader. Now that we can finally help you guys in battle, it’s like things changed. We feel like we…”

“Belong?” Noctis finished for him.

“...yeah. Like we belong.” Prompto kicked his feet off the side of the dock idly. “We can’t really describe it.  But it’s kinda like… we were meant to be with you guys. Maybe. Or something like that.”

“I think you’re absolutely right.”

Prompto looked up at his friend.

“It’s been awesome having you here,” Noctis continued. “It’s like this whole time, we were in need of a fourth squad member to balance us all out. Ignis is so strict, and Gladio is Gladio, and I’m… well, me, y’know?”

Prompto stared blankly at his friend. “We don’t really follow,” he said bluntly.

Noctis smirked. “I think what I’m trying to say… is that I’m really glad you’re here with us, Prompto.”

“...we’re glad, too,” Prompto agreed.

“And you know you’re welcome to stay with us. The whole rest of the way.”

“We appreciate it.”

“And, well…” Noctis rubbed at his beard as he exhaled slowly. “I dunno, it’s like…”

“We think that maybe in another life,” Prompto interrupted, “we could have been best friends, Noct.”

Noctis lowered his fishing rod, watching Prompto with a confused look on his face. “Huh?”

“Like, from the very beginning,” Prompto clarified. He wasn’t looking at Noctis; his eyes instead fixed on the bobbing end of the fishing line. “If… if we were human. Born around the same time as you guys. Like. If we had been able to grow up together. Be in your life, like Ignis and Gladio were at a young age. If… we were… you know… normal.” Prompto chewed on his lip. “Alive.”

Noctis reeled in his line, then set his fishing rod against the dock beside himself. “Prompto, to me, you’re alive,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if you were born or not… or when you came into my life. I… dammit, I can’t believe you’re making me say this out loud.”

“Go on.”

“You’re a really great friend, Prompto. I don’t know if this trip would have gone half as smoothly as it has without you here. It definitely wouldn’t have been half as fun, I know that much.”

Prompto smiled. “You’re a great friend too, Noct.”

“Heh... thanks, but I don’t think I’m a very great anything.”

“But you are.”

“I’m really not.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It’s… a long story.”

“We’ve got all day.”

Noctis sighed heavily. He looked deep in thought; his expression was worth a thousand words, but none of those words made it past his lips.

“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to,” Prompto said quickly. “Really. It’s okay.”

“Sorry, Prompto. I’m… well, you’ve probably picked up on this already, but I’m kind of… an awkward person.” Noctis sighed again. “It’s really hard for me to talk about myself, most of the time. Or just… in general. It’s why Ignis mostly does the talking for me. Especially in political situations.”

“It’s all good, Noct.” Prompto’s hand ran along the wooden plank he sat on. Finding a pebble beneath his palm, he curled his fingers around it and tossed it into the water. Immediately upon impact, the water lit up in neon blue again, then slowly faded to black.

“Speaking of Iggy… We wish he could see this,” Prompto said gently.

“There’s no reason why he can’t. You could bring him out here. Y’know. Just the two of you.” Noctis picked up his fishing rod again, alternating his grip between his hands. “Alone.”

“Just the two of us?” Prompto asked. “Why not everyone? It would be fun, all four of us hanging out beneath the stars… trying our hand at fishing. You could teach us.”

“That would defeat the point,” Noctis said.

“What point?”

Noctis pursed his lips.

“Nevermind,” he replied. He cast his line into the water again, changing his position on the dock.

“Noct, we… we really don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Prompto admitted. “We dunno if it’s because we’re running into another hiccup in our social programming, or if the crash we went through yesterday did a bigger number on us than we thought, but—“

“How’re you doing, anyway?” Noctis asked, interrupting his train of thought. “Ignis was acting really weird yesterday. And this morning, too. Did… something happen?”

Prompto picked up the end of his scarf. “We kinda… got into a fight yesterday?” He fidgeted. “We guess?”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Prompto bounced back. “It was kinda… bad. He was mad that we left the car. And y’know, secretly did battle training with you and Gladio behind his back.”

“Yikes. Sorry. I knew that would end up blowing up in our faces. I should have just told him the truth from the get go.”

“It’s fine. It was our choice, our decision. If he was gonna get mad, then we wanted him to get mad at us, not you guys. We wanted to deal with the fallout on our own.”

“Still. But I guess it all worked out in the end though, right? You guys looked pretty close this morning.”

“Yeah. We talked it out. It was hard, but… we’re glad it happened. We think that we both understand each other better now.” Prompto paused. “What do you mean, ‘close’?”

“Uh,” Noctis began. He blew a puff of air. “You know. You’re all like… cuddly and stuff.”

Prompto blinked. “Is that weird?”

“A little.”

“But we do that together all the time.”

Noctis didn’t reply.

“Noct?”

“You know… I’ve never seen Ignis get so…” Noctis tapped his fingers against the wood. “... _close_ , to someone before. He usually doesn’t like physical contact. Like, at all. If you stand just a _little_ too close to him, he’ll take a step away. If you pat him on the arm or back, he kind of recoils, like he’s offended that you had the audacity to touch him at all. He just isn’t a touchy feely kind of guy.”

“Really?” Prompto asked. “But… we hold hands all the time. And sleep close to each other.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m saying that… before we all met you… Ignis wasn’t like this, at all.”

“Ever?”

“ _Never._ ”

Prompto leaned back on his hands.

Ignis... didn’t like being touched? Ignis didn’t like being physically close to other people? Prompto had no idea what to do with this information. It completely conflicted with every byte of data that he had filed away on Ignis Scientia. He wanted to tell Noctis that he was wrong, that he was getting Ignis mixed up with someone else. But Noctis was one of Ignis’ closest friends; there was no way he was mistaken.

Then what did this all mean?

“Prompto?” Noctis asked. He shifted closer to the other, resting his hands on his knee as he brought it up onto the dock. “Is Ignis… important to you?”

Prompto didn’t miss a beat. “Yes,” he responded firmly.

“Why?”

“Because our directive is bound to him,” Prompto explained simply. “Our directive is our _raison d’être._ Our purpose. He programmed it into our system; we have to follow it. It states: ‘Accompany Ignis Scientia…’”

“‘...wherever he may go’,” Noctis finished for him. “Yeah. I know. Ignis told me all about that.”

“So then you understand why he is important to us already.”

“Sure, that statement is programmed into you. We get it. But what does it really _mean_? It just means that you have to be in his general vicinity, right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“If that’s true, then that means that what’s happening between you and Ignis can’t be blamed on your directive.”

“We don’t comprehend,” Prompto said.

“If that was all there there was to it, then all you’d have to do is just follow him around. You wouldn’t have to talk to him, or interact with him, at all. This friendship you’ve built with him - your entire relationship - has nothing to do with the fine print of your directive.”

“We don’t comprehend,” Prompto repeated.

“Prompto, holding hands and cuddling Ignis at night has nothing to do with your directive.”

“We don’t—“

“Who was the one that initiated that kind of contact to begin with?”

“We did.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know.”

“That sort of thing was never programmed into you, right? Then why did you do it?”

“We don’t know,” Prompto said again. These questions… they were causing his mind, his entire processor, to chug and slow down. “Noctis, we’re getting confused.”

“Did Ignis teach you about human affection?”

“No,” Prompto answered. He moved his hand to his head. “We… don’t remember. Maybe… maybe it was something we researched on our own time. Maybe we Moogled it. Yeah, we must have Moogled ‘human companionship’ at one point and started applying it to Ignis because he was just… always there, and… and we just got our wires crossed. We don’t know.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Prompto. You’re an A.I. A really, really intelligent one. I think you’ve made choices of your own accord, of your own doing. I think…” Noctis paused. “That… you actually have feelings of your own.”

Prompto laughed, waving his hand at the absurdity of the claim. “Noct, now you’re being ridiculous,” he said. “We can only simulate emotions. There’s no way that what you’re suggesting is even possible for something like us.”

“Some _one_ like you,” Noctis corrected.

“Noctis—“

“Prompto, listen to me. I really think—“

“You think wrong,” Prompto interrupted. “We’re a _machine._ We mimic things.” He gestured with his hands in the air while he spoke. “We apply data to situations, we analyze it, we shape it up into an ideal concept, an ideal course of action, like sculpting a sandcastle at the beach. Nothing about us is genuine.”

“You’re wrong,” Noctis replied.

“Ignis is our directive,” Prompto continued. “He’s important to us because he’s our directive. When we close our eyes…” And he did so, to emphasize. “...all we see in our mind is that snapshot the maintenance console took of him when he overrode our system parameters. All we hear is the ‘Hello, Prompto’ he recorded for voice recognition purposes. He’s important to us because he’s literally programmed to be.”

“You’re full of it,” Noctis muttered, shaking his head. “Why won’t you listen to me? Even you have to admit that if you consider all of these factors, everything that’s happened so far, especially between you and Ignis…” He paused to take a breath. “Why can’t you at least _try_ to understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Because we’re _not human,_ Noctis,” Prompto snapped. “We might have fooled you, what with our appearance and our chipper programmed personality, but underneath it all we’re nothing more than just a bundle of wires and fused together scrap metal. There’s really nothing more to us. What you’re saying is there - what you _believe_ is there - isn’t. Plain and simple.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ignis is our directive,” Prompto said.

“Prompto. You care about him.”

“Ignis is our directive,” Prompto said again.

“Prompto. You _care_ about him,” Noctis insisted.

Prompto’s fingers twisted in the end of his scarf, the length wrapped around his wrist as he tried desperately not to look at Noctis. “Ignis is our directive.”

“Prompto, you…” Noctis said, voice trailing off. He took another long, deep breath, and when he exhaled, his expression showed finality. “Prompto, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, and I know you’re just gonna throw it back in my face again. But seriously…”

“Ignis is our directive,” Prompto interrupted.

“Prompto. I think…”

“Directive,” Prompto cut him off.

“...you’re—“

“ _Directive_.”

“Prompto, _listen_ \---”

“Directive,” Prompto’s voice warbled. His eyes widened, startled by the odd sound coming from his throat. When he tried to speak again, nothing happened; instead, his head jerked unnaturally, then his shoulders slumped forward, followed by his upper body. His entire being stuttered in short bows before coming to a stop, like a stalling car.

Startled, Noctis stared wide-eyed at his friend.

“...Prompto?” Noctis asked in a small voice.

“Directive,” Prompto repeated in an inhuman pitch. He raised a shaky hand to his face, placing his palm across his mouth. The mask of humanity he wore like a costume at a masquerade had shattered in an instant, leaving behind nothing more than a digitized simulation of audible speech.

“Prompto… are you okay?”

“ _Directive_ ,” he said again, louder this time, but with no improvement.

“Prompto. Talk to me,” Noctis said, concern in his voice. He reached out to touch Prompto’s shoulder, gently giving him a shake.

“Directive,” Prompto said. He jumped at the contact, but made no effort to physically move away from Noctis, as if his body had become much more weighted.

It was then that a loud _whirrrrr_ filled the air. It grinded like colliding gears, then stuttered much like Prompto’s earlier movements.

“Prompto...?” Noctis, stunned, willed himself to reach up and touch Prompto’s cheek. Immediately he withdrew his hand, shaking his wrist. “Oh _shit_ , you’re really hot all of a sudden.”

“Di...rec...tive,” Prompto sputtered. He turned his head, staring wide-eyed at his confused companion. His electronic eyes had dimmed and his lips had parted, as if he were about to say something else, but he remained frozen in an almost catatonic state. Another harsh mechanical sound echoed off the trees and all at once he ragdolled, falling face first off of the edge of the dock and meeting the water with a loud _splash_.

“Prompto!” Noctis shouted. Without hesitation, he dove into the water after his friend, his feet finding the bottom of the shallow lake quickly. Upon impact, the liquid around them lit up like an explosion, neon blue fireworks with each splash of water. Noctis sputtered, coughing as he scrambled to retrieve his friend. Noctis wasn’t the strongest person in the world, but he was confident that he would be able to pull his friend from the water with ease. Grabbing hold of one of Prompto’s arms, he lifted him up, attempting to throw said arm around his shoulder, but Prompto was a lot heavier than he looked. Noctis struggled to remain upright as he pulled Prompto’s limp body along through the water, tripping now and again and coughing up more water, each step more determined than the last.

When they finally made it to the shore, Noctis collapsed on his knees against the brush of dirt and greenery, heaving deep breaths. His chest burned and ached like the rest of his body, but none of that mattered right now; Prompto still wasn’t moving.

“Prompto,” Noctis said again. He leaned over his friend, rolling him onto his back. He gently nudged him with his hands, shook him by the shoulders, pressed his hands to Prompto’s cheeks; but the blond didn’t get so much as twitch. Prompto resembled a lifeless shell. His eyes were wide open; blank, dim, like the life Noctis believed he possessed had been sapped clear out of him.

“Can you hear me?” Noctis asked shrilly, his panic setting in. He shook his friend frantically. “Oh, Gods, oh shit. Prompto. _Please_ , say something.”

Nothing.

It was just as Prompto had said - he laid there motionless on the ground, like a heap of discarded scrap metal.

“Prompto. Wake up. Come _on_. Please!” Four more shakes to his body and Noctis cursed. “Shit. Shit!”

At a loss, he reached into his soggy jacket’s pocket, scrambling to get out his cellphone. He tapped at the screen, then brought the phone to his ear.

“Ignis?”

“ _Is something wrong?”_ came the man’s voice on the other end.

“Hurry, get Gladio and come quick to the lake. _Now_.”

Noctis took a shaky breath. He was almost loathed to, but he looked back down at Prompto, at his lifeless body that he knew would haunt him in his sleep for some time, and shook in fear.

The _whirrrr_ sound slowly lowered, then stopped altogether, leaving nothing but the pounding of Noctis’ heart and the gentle croaking of frogs nearby the only sound in the world. That was, until he spoke again.

“Something’s wrong with Prompto.”


	13. ERROR: DATA COULD NOT BE RECOVERED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, everyone!!! I've been hard at work with this fic and preparing for the upcoming Promnis Big Bang (modding AND participating!). To make up for the major cliffhanger last chapter, please accept this very long chapter to follow it ;) I've got a lot of cool stuff planned for this fic in the future, so please truuuust in meeeee and buckle in for the ride! As always, thank you so much for your support, and I love you all.

DATA LOG #13: ERROR: DATA COULD NOT BE RECOVERED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY. 

A well loved pen, one a shiny cobalt blue engraved with the words ‘Ignis Scientia’ along its side, scratched across the page of a well loved leather bound journal. Despite his best efforts to ensure minimal damage to its surface, Ignis had been powerless to prevent the occasional scuff on its smooth cover and the few folded over page corners within. _It can’t be helped_ , he’d tell himself each time he fussed over another indent, another crease in the paper that shouldn’t be. _It’s merely cosmetic; as long as the contents are unaffected, it’s trivial._

Ignis tapped the end of the pen against the paper, searching his mind for the right words to add to his current thought.

_This morning, while regarding my mirrored reflection to fix my sleep tostled hair, I felt that for a moment, I was nigh unrecognizable._

Tap, tap, tap.

Noctis had bought him this pen for his twenty-second birthday. Ignis hadn't dared ask how much the ridiculous thing had cost, but Noctis had insisted that it was ‘no biggie’ and to ‘just take it, okay?’. It was too flashy, too pretentious for someone such as himself, but somewhere along the way he’d grown quite fond of it regardless. He’d lost count of how many times he’d refilled the ink canister at this point, unwilling to part with it in favour of something more practical; something that would last longer in the long run.

He wasn’t sure when, but somehow, the flashy, pretentious material object had become dear to him.

_I wasn’t alone in my observation,_ he added. _Later this morning, Gladiolus informed me that something was off about me today, as well, though he hadn’t been able to give me a straight answer on what that ‘something’ could be._

Ignis tapped his pen again.

_Perhaps I’ve let myself get too comfortable after all._

Ignis sighed.

_Perhaps I truly have become too attached._

Tap, tap.

_Perhaps... I’ve become foolish._

Before he could continue that thought, he was dragged back to reality by the sudden blare of music that filled the tent: his phone’s ringtone. Setting the pen down on his journal and the journal to follow against his lap, he immediately retrieved his phone from his pocket.

It was Noctis.

Noctis normally avoided voice calling whenever possible, preferring to communicate via text messages instead.

An unpleasant feeling began to fester in the pit of his stomach.

“ _Ignis?_ ” came his friend’s voice through the speaker.

“ _Is something wrong?”_ Ignis answered.

“ _Hurry, get Gladio and come quick to the lake.”_ He sounded hurried. Unnerved. “ _Now.”_

The indescribable feeling that filled Ignis’ chest next was almost agonizing; it dared to knock him right off his feet, had he been standing.

“Noctis, what’s going on? Did something happen? Tell me,” Ignis urged, tucking his phone into the crook of his neck. He was upright in seconds, socked feet sliding into boots as he pulled on his winter jacket simultaneously. Noctis didn’t reply; he was silent, minus the quaking of uncertain breaths that crackled in heavy bursts against the speaker.

“ _Something’s wrong with Prompto,_ ” Noctis admitted at last.

Ignis paled.

...

Prompto.

Something… was wrong? With Prompto?

Ignis felt his stomach turn itself inside out as he hurried out of the tent towards the car. It was as if the world in front of his eyes had blurred; devoid of all colour, even in the natural dark of the eternal night. His joints were stiff, body as cold as ice; his heart a pulsing force against his very being that threatened to shatter his outer shell.

_Truly, I’ve become foolish._

≈

“It’s all my fault,” Noctis said during the trip back to their campsite. He was shivering, arms wrapped around himself despite the blaring heat from the car vents. “I pushed him too far. I didn’t know this would happen. I... didn’t _mean_ for this to happen, and---”

“What exactly happened?” Ignis interrupted. His hands gripped the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves creaking with tension. “Noctis, slow down and speak clearly.”

“I _can’t_ speak clearly, okay?” Noctis made a frustrated noise, followed by the sound of the back of his head hitting the seat behind him. “I’m kind of freaking out right now!”

“Noct,” Gladiolus boomed. “Out with it.”

Noctis took in a breath. “We were fishing…” he began after a brief moment of silence. “Having a great conversation, and… and I dunno, he just… suddenly started saying ‘Directive’ over and over, and then he... fell into the lake.”

“Shit,” Gladiolus muttered. “Think he’s waterproof?”

“He is,” Ignis answered coolly. “He’s told me before. It would make sense for an android who is stationed at an aquarium to be waterproof, would it not?”

“Anyway,” Noctis continued, “I somehow managed to drag him out of there… he’s… he’s a lot heavier than he looks. I shook him, called to him, but he wouldn’t reply to anything I said. He wouldn’t move. It was like he was…” Noctis took in another deep breath, attempting to soothe the nerves that ran rampant throughout him. In the rearview mirror, Ignis could clearly see the look of distress on Noctis’ face, the damp strands of hair that clung to his cheeks and forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault, Noct,” Gladiolus said. “Likely he’s just got some faulty wiring and was due for a crash, regardless of where he was at the time. Doubt it’s got anything to do with you. Iggy said he’s been wigging out lately. He’ll be fine in no time.”

“But he’s never just… _crashed_ like this before. Right?” Noctis asked innocently. “He’d just… take a second and then he’d be back to normal. Not like this. This just… doesn’t seem right. I don’t know. I don’t mean to be pessimistic, it’s just… it’s just not sitting with me well, is all.”

Ignis pursed his lips, peering into the rearview mirror again. Prompto laid across the back seat, body lifelessly bobbing with every bump of the road. His head rested in Noctis’ lap, blond hair wet and formerly blue eyes open and dark, staring blankly at nothing in particular while Noctis held one of his hands in his own.

“Don’t ask me. I ain’t an electronics expert,” Gladiolus shrugged.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Noctis quipped. “You’re too scared to use your phone most of the time.”

“Oh, shut it,” Gladiolus fired back. “Anyway, Iggy, did Prompto happen to leave you a troubleshooting guide somewhere? Like, a ‘how to’ manual?”

“No,” Ignis replied.

“So what’s the plan, then?”

Ignis’ eyes lowered. “As of right now, I’m not sure,” he admitted.

“You ‘reprogrammed’ him, right?” Ignis wasn’t looking at him, but he could tell Gladiolus was giving him one of his branded looks just from his tone. “Can’t you do the same thing you did back at the aquarium?”

“He was functioning back at the aquarium,” Ignis explained. “There’s no guarantee that he will even have a reaction if I scan his barcode with the keycard.”

“Huh. Maybe he does have a battery that needs to be recharged after all.”

“But he’s said that he doesn’t need charging,” Noctis chimed in. “And besides, he totally just… freaked out. He was definitely glitching. If he had a low battery, he would have started acting sluggish or just… stopped functioning mid sentence, right?”

“I ain’t a robot expert,” Gladiolus said again. “How should I know?”

“Please stop calling him a robot,” Ignis muttered.

“But that’s what he is, Ignis.”

“Perhaps to you.”

“But he’s technically not ‘alive’.”

“ _Stop it_ , Gladiolus.”

“You really gonna argue with this one? Listen. Human beings don’t ‘glitch’, Ignis.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive or nothin’. I’m just saying that he’s not human. Can’t exactly take him to a human hospital, right? Then logically, that means---”

“Gladio,” Noctis warned.

A sigh. A creaking shift in the leather seat. “Sorry,” Gladiolus said softly. “I’ll drop it. Not the time or place.”

Ignis was silent for the remainder of the trip.

When they arrived back at the haven at last, Ignis parked the car not far from where they had made camp. Noctis carefully moved out of the back seat, letting Prompto’s head come to rest against the cushion where he had been sitting.

“So... what now? Do you think it’s safe to move him?” Noctis asked.

Gladiolus slammed his door shut, circling around to where Noctis was. “No reason why he can’t stay in the car for now,” he replied. “When he wakes up, he can just call one of us over.”

“We’re not leaving him in the car,” Ignis said firmly.

“Why?”

“He needs to be in close proximity so we can keep a proper eye on him. It isn’t safe for him otherwise.”

“The car’s protected by the power of the haven, too. Nothing’s going to happen to him if he stays here.”

“If Noctis were the one unconscious, would you suggest we do the same?” Ignis retorted. He stared daggers in Gladiolus’ direction, his hands coming to rest on his hips.

Noctis glanced helplessly back and forth between Prompto in the back seat and his two friends, who looked about ready to partake in an impromptu duel. Now that he had been name dropped, he took that as his cue to make his exit, heading for the tent so he could change into dry clothes and make the beds.

“Ignis, he’s not technically---” Gladiolus insisted.

“That is _enough_ , Gladiolus,” Ignis snapped.

“Listen. I get where you’re coming from, really, I do. But are you really suggesting we stick him in the tent with us?”

“What difference would it make?” Ignis challenged.

“His…” Gladiolus trailed. His brows furrowed, sighing as he glanced away. “...his eyes are wide open.”

“And?”

“You know, for someone who keeps insisting he’s not a machine, you’re really not putting two and two together.”

“Please, do enlighten me.”

“He doesn’t breathe. He’s not moving, but his eyes are wide open.”

“I don’t follow.”

“He looks just like…”

“Yes?” Ignis urged.

Gladiolus huffed. “...like a corpse,” he said at last.

“But he’s not a corpse,” Ignis said matter-of-factly.

“I _know_ that, Ignis, but it’s just---”

“He deserves to be treated with respect, regardless of whether he is fully ‘human’ or not,” Ignis said hurriedly, his patience wearing thin. “You needn’t look at him, if his current state distresses you that much. Or perhaps you would like to take his place in the car for the night, see how it feels to be treated like an inanimate object.”

Gladiolus’ fists clenched, and for a moment it looked like he was going to storm off in a frustration fueled rage. But to Ignis’ surprise he remained where he was, chest heaving with deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. After a moment, he rolled his shoulders and stared at the ground.

“Sorry,” Gladiolus said softly. “I’m talkin’ out of my ass again. You’re right. It doesn’t matter. He’s one of us and should be treated as such. I’ll… help move him to the tent.”

Ignis closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He, too, had to calm down. Somehow, he had to calm down, had to reclaim his footing on this planet despite the gravity of the situation weighing down on him.

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis muttered.

Gladiolus stepped close to Ignis, placing his hand on his shoulder. “I’m… worried about him, too,” he admitted. “But I’m sure he’ll be okay. We’ll take turns watching over him, do shift work, all right? If he even so much as twitches, we’ll wake everyone up and go from there.”

Ignis nodded, but Gladiolus’ words of reassurance had not reached him.

Ignis was beyond worried.

Ignis was…. scared.

Ignis was not okay.

≈

Several days later, Prompto still gave no signs of awakening.

Bundled up in the sleeping bag at Ignis’ side, Prompto remained motionless, stiff, with not so much as a flutter of an artificial eyelash in his stead. As per Gladiolus’ suggestion, the group took turns keeping an eye on him each night and day, waiting to see if the bot showed any signs of awakening. The sound of his processor booting up, maybe. The soft uttering of his voice. The low shift of a limb against a sleeping bag. A hand, reaching out towards the camera that laid at his side, waiting for its master to wake up.

Prompto did none of those things.

During Ignis’ shifts, he’d tried everything he could possibly think of. He’d tapped the keycard he’d used to perform the directive override against the barcode on Prompto’s wrist. He’d carefully sat the android upright, speaking to him clearly while making unbreaking eye contact in hopes that simple interaction would kickstart something inside of him. He’d provided stimuli via touch - a gentle caress against his cheek. A cautious grip that lightly shook his shoulders. Longing fingers, brushing his blond hair away from his empty, soulless eyes.

A leather-bound hand, taking his slender, bare hand within his own.

Prompto’s fingers didn’t so much as twitch. They didn’t twine to the spaces in between Ignis’; they didn’t hesitate before shyly locking around his thumb. They remained stiff. Lifeless.

Cold.

Prompto… was so cold.

Was he always this cold?

The android _did_ generate some heat due to his processor and the moving gears within him, Ignis was certain, but had his skin always been this cold to the touch?

_He’s not alive,_ Gladiolus’ voice rang in his mind.

Ignis’ gaze remained fixed on their hands. Then, they drifted to his face, to his wide eyes, to his lips that were parted ever so slightly.

_He looks just like…_ the voice continued.

“No,” Ignis whispered. He averted his gaze, taking a breath to quell the ache in his chest.

_No._

Prompto was not a corpse.

Gladiolus was right - true as it may be that he was not technically ‘alive’, he was not ‘dead’, either.

Prompto wasn’t gone; he was just in stasis. That was all.

But how does one revert a machine from stasis?

Ignis spent countless hours pondering just that.

≈

As the days continued to crawl by, Ignis became so distressed by Prompto’s stasis that he hardly acted like himself at all.

The original agreement of ‘shift work’ quickly became null and void as Ignis refused to leave Prompto’s side. Not even Gladiolus and all of his muscles could drag Ignis away from that tent; heated words and heightened emotions creating a rift between the close friends. Noctis, meanwhile, could do nothing but listen to their quarrels outside the tent, only able to step in to comfort the two of them once the flames died down, though each at a separate time.

Ignis was at the end of his rope.

Truly, he had tried everything he could possibly think of. He had exhausted all of his resources. Not even a jolt of electricity, courtesy of Noctis, was enough to spark life back into their companion. Gladiolus had even contacted Sania about it, but not even she could provide further insight. He could be transported to Niflheim for repairs, but it was unlikely that HQ even existed anymore, given the Argentum server situation.

As loathed as he was to admit it, Ignis was beginning to feel that maybe, despite his determination and best efforts, the situation really _was_ hopeless. But even on the nights when he’d felt his lowest - the nights he’d spent holding Prompto’s hand firmly in his own, the nights he’d spent whispering words of encouragement upon inactive ears; he was determined. Under no circumstances was he going to give up, but it wasn’t without his fair share of guilt. This incident was irrelevant to Noctis’ mission and was setting them back on time, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move on.

Not yet.

The answer was still there. Somewhere, it was there; he just hadn’t discovered it yet.

...

Prompto Argentum. The friendly face of the Argentum Aquatic Centre, worldwide.

Ignis… missed him.

He missed him dearly.

He missed their daily chats and Prompto’s insistence on taking a daily selfie together. He missed Prompto’s curiosity, his look of pure awe and wonder when Ignis drawled on about something he felt would be boring to your average person. But no matter the topic, Prompto would always insist that Ignis was fascinating and was alway eager to hear more.

He missed his melodic, joyful laughter.

The way his eyes pinched when he smiled wide, electronic eyes glimmering with human-like depth.

When Ignis sat at Prompto’s bedside, it was rare if his cell phone wasn't glued to his hands. Constant scrolling and tapping on the screen, endless walls of text and Moogle search results passing by his tired and sore eyes. Hours and hours of research, desperately trying to find any information that could apply to Prompto's unique situation. Robotics. A.I. Computers. Electronics, as a whole. Articles and research papers on related subjects, but nothing that seemed to be specific to him.

Prompto, Ignis discovered, wasn't a standard android.

What was Prompto, really? Where did he come from? What company manufactured him, and why was there no trace of him or his many ‘brothers’ on the web? Sure, the character of ‘Prompto Argentum’ would show up here and there, but only when mentioned in passing on someone’s vacation blog, mostly.

Prompto, _his_ Prompto, was shrouded in mystery.

Advanced robotics were still very new. Little information was known. The fact that Prompto and his brothers even existed in the first place, and had for so long to little attention in the press, was puzzling in itself.

Were they the first? Maybe they were.

...no, that wasn't true.

Robotics _had_ been explored in the past.

Ignis eventually typed two words into the Moogle search bar that he’d never wanted to type. A concept he was morally against. To say it was a ‘sore spot’ in Eos’ history was being kind. Just reading those words made him sick to his stomach, but he had no other leads. For Prompto, he would do this.

‘Magitek Technology’.

The country’s boasted ‘wave of the future’, its first foray of unbridled new age technology.

Ignis refused to believe Prompto had anything to do with those long since decommissioned machines, but he had to explore all avenues. He had to prove to Gladiolus especially that Prompto was not cut from the same cloth. It had all happened so long ago, long before his time, but… Could there be a link? If there was even the smallest chance of there being some kind of connection, Ignis had to find it. He owed it to Prompto. Prompto was depending on him, even if he personally could not ask it of himself at the moment.

However, after an hour of research, even the dreaded search query had proven to be fruitless. Nothing relating to Prompto at all, just research papers and history websites written by whom Ignis assumed were not experts.

Was it hopeless after all? Was Prompto doomed to never function again?

...

_No._

No, there had to be a way. There was _always_ a way. It wasn't in Ignis’ nature to just give up; not after everything he’d been through his whole life. He'd always found a way to push through, so why should this be any different?

Right now, in this very moment, though, it was like the sky itself, in all its darkened, star glittering splendor, was crushing him.

Ignis clasped his phone in his hand, then brought it to his forehead, sighing heavily beneath the weight of the world.

He was tired. So, so tired. His eyes burned from staring at that illuminated screen for such extended periods of time, his neck pained from craning down to look at it.

After all that, his cell phone was rendered useless.

He glanced over at the slumbering android. The striped scarf around his neck looked to be especially cozy tonight, bunched up and covering his mouth just a little. Ignis wondered, if it were possible, what androids would dream about. Would it be incomprehensible to the human mind? Would only another android have any hope of deciphering them?

_...another android_.

Ignis’ eyes lit up. He had been wrong; there was but one last thing he had yet to try. _His_ cell phone may be useless, but he wasn't the only person here with a cell phone. There was, in fact, a unique cell phone in their presence, one that had been altered and used exclusively not by a human, but by an android. Perhaps the answer he’d been seeking all this time wasn’t in _his_ cell phone, but rather, Prompto’s. Prompto had spent so much time customizing it, writing his own programs, even. What if the android had left some clues behind? What if something he’d previously discussed with his brother, Seven, could help?

Ignis knew he wouldn’t be able to communicate with Seven directly, if the android was even around, due to the program having no link to the Argentum Cloud Server while Prompto was decommissioned. But that didn’t mean Ignis couldn’t read through their old chat logs.

Heart pounding in his chest like a mallet on steel, Ignis immediately got to his feet and briskly left the tent.

Prompto’s belongings had been resting on his cooking table not far from the campfire’s warmth, keeping close to the heat source in an attempt to salvage them after the lake incident. The camera appeared to be in working order and now remained at Prompto’s side, but no one had really tried to boot up his phone yet, deeming it unimportant.

Until now.

Ignis went straight for the table, plucked the phone up between his fingers, then went over to the campfire where Noctis was currently sitting. Hearing his approaching footsteps, Noctis immediately sat up straight, turning in his seat so he could greet his friend.

“Hey Iggy,” Noctis said cheerfully. Upon seeing the state his friend was in, what with his unkempt hair and bags under his eyes, Noctis’ eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Been awhile since I’ve seen you on your feet. How’s—-“

“Noct,” Ignis interrupted, circling around so he could stand in front of the other.  “Would you mind sparing Prompto’s phone a quick charge?”

Noctis blinked, sitting back as he rubbed at his scratchy chin. “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. Did something happen?”

“I have an idea, but I need to get this up and running first before I can test the theory,” Ignis explained quickly. He avoided making eye contact with Noctis, shifting on his feet as he seemed almost… fidgety. Eager to leave. “So if you could, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Noctis studied his friend for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “Sure. No problem.” After removing his right glove, he reached toward Ignis, gingerly taking the phone from him. He took a slow breath and closed his eyes. With a quick spark, a crackling _zap_ that popped a little louder than the embers in the nearby fire, he then handed the phone back to Ignis.

“You have my thanks,” Ignis said. He turned on his heel to take his leave, but was stopped short by Noctis’ hand clutching his wrist.

“Ignis,” came Noctis’ voice. “We’re… going to be leaving soon.” He let out a breath. “Moving on.”

Ignis said nothing.

“Look, I know how you feel,” Noctis continued. “It's been really hard on you… It's been hard on us all, really. I feel awful, but---”

“I understand,” Ignis said firmly.

“Ignis---”

“I hadn't intended for this to take as much time as it has. This was supposed to have been solved and over with days ago.”

“I know, but---”

“I just…” Ignis paused. He sighed, speaking through grit teeth. “ _I just need more_ _time_.”

“Ignis, listen to me--”

“I'm onto something. I have a good feeling about this, Noct. It's---”

“Gladio and I are worried about you.”

Ignis’ lips pursed.

“You're not sleeping.”

“I'm _fine,_ Noctis.”

“Guzzling cup after cup of Ebony can only do so much. It’s not a substitute for real, actual sleep, and…all that caffeine _can't_ be good for you, Ignis.”

“I assure you, my health is in tip-top shape,” Ignis murmured.

“Yeah, but for how long? How long will it last? How long until you start feeling nauseous? How long until you start hallucinating?”

“Noct, I'm---”

“You look terrible, Ignis.”

“Thank you for your infelicitous observation.”

“Prompto wouldn’t want to see you like this,” Noctis said hurriedly.

At last, Ignis met Noctis’ gaze.

“Please, just…” Noctis struggled to find the words. Shoulders slumping, he finished with, “get some _sleep_.”

Ignis remained silent. He watched Noctis for a moment longer before he slid his wrist free,  continuing on his way back to the tent without another word. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Noctis’ concern - far from it - it was more because, like Sania, once he was in ‘The Zone’ he couldn't let anything, or anyone, disrupt him.

Ignis’ mind began to stir, flooding with hopeful excitement as he approached the tent.

This was the answer. This cell phone of Prompto’s - it was the missing link. It _had_ to be. Ignis wasn’t sure what it was, but he just had a _feeling_ about this; a premonition, nearly _._ All at once, he felt like he was brimming with energy, like he'd just had yet another strong cup of Ebony.

Ignis removed his boots by the tent door before returning to the motionless android’s side.

“My apologies, Prompto,” he uttered softly, settling down on the sleeping bag. “I didn’t mean to leave you all alone, even if it was for a short moment.”

Prompto said nothing, just as he always did.

Ignis removed his jacket, folding it and placing it at his bedside. “You know, if you would be so kind as to give me a hint, any inkling of a direction to follow, it would be appreciated.”

Nothing.

“I’m sure you’re laughing at me right now. Perhaps teasing me about the dark circles under my eyes.” Ignis smiled weakly. “Noctis said I look terrible. Is it true?”

Nothing.

“Maybe it _is_ true. Unfortunately, it can’t be helped. Though I will say that it would be nice if you’d make my job a little bit easier.”

Ignis looked down at the cell phone he held in his hand. Despite being a second hand phone, Prompto had taken very good care of it. There was nigh a scratch on its casing, nor a crack on its screen. It was nearly immaculate. The worst trouble it had faced thus far was the momentary plunge in the lake.

Ignis took a deep, quivering breath. He held it securely in his palm, finger pressing down on the power button.

...

Nothing happened.

Noctis had, without a doubt, given it a jolt with his magic, the very same as he would when he charged everyone’s phones on a daily basis. So why was it not turning on?

Was it hopeless after all?

No.

He was _sure_ that this was the solution.

It _had to be_.

He truly was at the end of his rope. Once this avenue had been driven, he really would have nowhere else to explore.

“ _Please_ ,” Ignis whispered under his breath.

Ignis tried everything; he pressed the power button multiple times, he held it down, he pressed the ‘screen on’ button, the home button… He tried pressing multiple buttons simultaneously; he even shook the phone, as if it were sentient and needed to be woken up.

He rapped the edge against his knee in frustration.

_Why?!_

Then, just as he was about to hurl the phone across the tent in defeat, a miracle occurred.

The screen lit up.

Ignis’ adrenaline shot through the roof.

“Astrals,” Ignis hissed. He took a few slow breaths, then proceeded to unlock the phone. “You certainly took your bloody time, now didn’t you?”

Down on the screen, the desktop of Prompto’s phone was minimal. He didn't have a whole lot of apps installed, to Ignis’ surprise. Just a few here and there; King’s Knight and some kind of odd cutesy cat puzzle game, allowing the wallpaper to be easily visible beneath the icons.

Said wallpaper was a photo of the two of them together, wearing the silly hats that they'd worn back at the Vesperpool.

Prompto’s smile was large enough for the two of them to share.

Ignis’ chest ached.

He longed to see that smile again.

At the bottom of the screen was an unfamiliar icon, one that didn’t match any app Ignis knew of. He could only assume that it was the program Prompto had coded himself, the one he’d spent many, many hours tinkering with in order to connect to the Argentum Cloud server.

Prompto had explained that unless his phone was directly connected via cable to his wrist, the app wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be able to connect to the server, and therefore be unable to communicate with Seven; however, it didn’t mean that it was impossible to launch the app in offline mode and view the previous conversation log.

Ignis’ hands shook, index finger hovering just above the icon. He was... scared. Scared that after all this, he would either be unable to use the program, or that there would be nothing he could use contained within.

He had to keep going.

With a harsh breath, he tapped the screen.

He'd chatted with Seven via this program on occasion. It was very basic, similar to the standard command prompt screen on a computer. At first glance, it was a little on the overwhelming side. Unlike a phone’s texting app, where it was clear who was speaking and when, this program was more cluttered, with no line breaks to separate between speakers. Thankfully, each time a new message began, it was succeeded by a timestamp followed by numbers. The numbers were easy enough to decipher - the number ending in 0001 was Prompto, and the other, 0007, obviously being Seven.

Eyes swimming in a sea of text, Ignis soon noticed something peculiar at the very bottom of the chat log.

Several messages, all time stamped on the day Prompto had shut down.

...

Impossible.

Or at least, it should have been.

Then how?

Ignis quickly checked his phone’s recent call list to confirm the times.

Several messages, all sent by Seven, one after the other. All sent around the time Noctis had called him in a panic after Prompto fell in the lake.

Feeling a chill run down his spine, Ignis pressed forward still, sating his curiosity.

_‘Prompto,’_ the first message read, then continued on separate lines beneath.

_‘Is everything okay?’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Please answer us.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Answer us!’_

_‘Please!’_

_‘We’ve detected an anomaly!’_

_‘Are you okay?’_

_‘Please say something!’_

_‘Prompto.’_

_‘Prompto!’_

_‘We’re sorry for being quiet!’_

_‘We weren’t ignoring you!’_

_‘We just couldn’t talk.’_

_‘We were busy.’_

_‘But we’re okay now!’_

_‘Are you okay?’_

_‘Please tell us you’re okay!’_

And then, the messages abruptly stopped.

Ignis sat back. Stared at the screen. Read each line of text, studied them intently, trying to find a shred of sense, and perhaps some kind of hidden message, but there were none.

What did these messages mean?

How was Seven able to connect when Prompto was crashing?

Why did he suddenly message him after going so long in silence? He remembered Prompto being distressed by the lack of communication - so why then? Why did he suddenly pipe up again in that particular moment?

Had the two brothers somehow interfaced beyond the app’s capabilities? Did Prompto know?

Was Seven capable of detecting anomalies if Prompto was connected to the server at the time?

What did it _mean_?

Ignis hadn't quite found what he had been hoping for, but he'd found enough; perhaps something even more valuable.

Seven.

The answer… truly must be with Seven. Just as he’d thought.

It was the only lead they had - their only shot in the dark. If they could go the rest of the way to where Seven’s signal was transmitting, it was very likely that Seven could help… or rather, the mysterious person Seven had mentioned higher up in their conversation.

Yes, that was right. He remembered now. Right before Seven had fallen silent some time ago,  he had mentioned that there was someone there with him. Who was this person? Could _they_ help? Ignis wasn’t sure, but as of right now, this was their only option. They _had_ to try. Even if it ended up being a dead end, at the very least they’d _tried_.

Ignis looked over at the sleeping android at his side once more. If it weren’t for his open, lifeless eyes, Ignis would have been none the wiser to his current condition. It would have been like any other night; Prompto pretending to sleep soundly, just like his human companions. Then, in the morning, he would roll over and smile gently upon hearing Ignis’ voice, offering a greeting of his own.

_“Good morning, Ignis. Didja sleep well? Bet you dreamed lots, huh?”_

Long fingers brushed against a soft, cold cheek, leaving behind a promise.

_I will bring you back to me._

≈

It had taken Ignis far longer than he would have liked to convince the others to go along with his plan. With their only lead shrouded in mystery, smack dab in the middle of a daemon-populated zone, it was no wonder that everyone had their fair share of concerns.

“What if it's a trap?” Gladiolus argued, pacing his fifth circle around the campfire that evening. “What if it's exactly what I said it was when we first picked up the kid? Someone planted him there, at that aquarium. Sat around waiting for the King and his entourage to come by, and---”

“You know as well as I do that that is preposterous,” Ignis rebutted. He sat in one of the nearby chairs, fire dancing in the lenses of his glasses.

“Yeah, but what about this alleged ‘brother’?” Gladiolus continued. “We have no idea if this person he was talking to even exists. Could be all a ruse, a lie to lure us over there and---”

“I am _aware,_ Gladio. Are you implying that I am merely acting on impulse without considering every possible outcome?”

“I'm just _saying_ \---”

“We’re going,” Noctis interrupted.

Gladiolus stopped his pacing, placing his hands against the back of one of the empty chairs. Both he and Ignis looked at Noctis, curious to hear what he had to say.

Noctis sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, crossing one leg over the other. “And yeah, I know it's risky,” he added, “but it's not like we're stupid and rushing in without heeding caution. We’ve all still got our heads on our shoulders, right? We’re discussing it instead of packing everything up and rushing over there. That’s a good thing.”

“The thing is, it’s more than just risky, Noct,” Gladiolus replied. “For all we know this could end up being a suicide mission.”

“You're being overdramatic, Gladio,” Ignis muttered.

“Are you not taking your job seriously anymore?! “ Gladiolus snapped. His hands pushed the chair, causing it to skid against the ground as he sprung away from it. “Just a few months ago you wouldn't have even considered something this careless and irrelevant to Noct’s mission.”

Ignis opened his mouth to retaliate, but before any words could fall from his lips, Noctis interrupted him.

“Stop it, you two,” Noctis said sternly. He sat up straight in his chair, resting his hands on his knees. “Listen. We’ll just… go. Just to see what's there. And please don’t think I’m invalidating your concerns, Gladio. I’m wary about the whole thing too. It's just…” He paused, taking a breath. “I can see where Ignis is coming from.”

Ignis watched Noctis intently.

“This really is the only option we have. Prompto hasn't woken up and it looks like he probably…won't, as long as he's like this. He needs help we can't give him. And if this person his ‘brother’ is with can help, then...”

“And if there _is_ no ‘brother’?” Gladiolus pressed.

“Then we’ll deal with whatever the situation is accordingly. If, say, we go and it ends up being a whole lot of nothing, or we get a bad feeling in our gut at any given moment, we’ll turn back around and get out of there as quickly as possible. Okay?”

“This is insane,” Gladiolus muttered.

“It only is because of your robot bias,” Noctis shot back.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“You were all weird about letting Prompto stay in the tent, too. If it were me or Ignis who needed help, you wouldn't be hesitating like this.”

“Yeah, I would.”

“And if it were your sister?” Noctis challenged. “Or Sania?”

Gladiolus glanced away, falling silent.

“Anyway, bottom line is that we’re going to at least try. We’re more than capable of handling anything that might be waiting for us there,” Noctis concluded confidently. He cleared his throat as an afterthought while the silence that followed cut like a knife.

No one dared make a sound until Noctis’ further throat clearing turned into an all out coughing fit.

Alarmed, Ignis rose to his feet, stepping over to where he sat. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Are you falling ill? Have you been pushing yourself too hard?”

“Oh my _Gods,_ lay off, would you?” Noctis snapped before he gave an eye roll that could have been seen from the moon. “A guy isn't allowed to clear his throat now? I'm getting really sick and tired of you two coddling me all the time.”

“It’s literally our job,” Gladiolus jabbed.

“Your job’s to get me to Ravatogh, not be my doctor,” Noctis parried.

“Can't do that if you're dead,” Gladiolus threw back.

“Heard necromancy is really popular these days,” Noctis added without missing a beat.

“Is now _really_ the time to be practicing your stand-up routine?”

“I understand your annoyances,” Ignis began, interrupting their verbal game of ping-pong, “but with your condition being the way it is as of late---”

“Stooooop it. I’m done,” Noctis muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand. He got to his feet briskly. “I’m tired. We all are. Ignis--” He pointed in his direction. “---I’m ordering you to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Gladio---” He pointed at him next, “---your orders are to lay off and to _also_ get a good night’s sleep. And as for me? I’m gonna go sleep forever, and if you guys have to drag me over to the car in the morning while I’m still knocked out, then so be it.”

“Not like that's anything out of the ordinary,” muttered Gladiolus.

“Good night, Noct. May you have pleasant dreams,” replied Ignis.

Ignis dreamed of nothing that night.

≈

It took the trio a good week to make their way back to the former Meldacio Hunter HQ. The daemon swarms multiplied tenfold, setting them back for time just as Gladiolus had predicted. On top of it all, Ignis’ fussing over Noctis’ health hadn’t been for nothing; the cough had been a telltale sign of an underlying illness, one that resulted in him having to sit back while the remaining pair dealt with the daemon hoards on their own. Frustrated, Noctis had no choice but to take a literal backseat with the ‘sleeping’ Prompto, fighting off a bad fever most nights while sleeping away the days. With Noctis out of commission, it left Gladiolus and Ignis vulnerable, not only to nearby dangers but to one another. Most of their days were spent stepping on eggshells, the sarcasm thick with fatigue and the bickering constant as they tried to decide if they should turn around for safety’s sake or continue on with their path.

Ignis refused, of course; they had already come this far, what good would it do to turn around? It wasn’t like it was uncommon for Noctis to catch a cold now and again, but Gladiolus wasn’t having it. Every night he insisted: this was bad. Everything about it was bad. And maybe it was. Deep down, Ignis felt the same; but his desire to see his companion’s eyes spark back to life once more had made him stubborn, and foolish.

Foolish, as he’d already long since decided. Foolish, acting purely on this accursed feeling that had taken root deep in his chest. This feeling he couldn’t ignore, one that was slowly eating away at him until before long, nothing remained in its place.

When they finally rolled into the former HQ, they could immediately see why it was no longer in use. The rumours of it being rebuilt were merely that; rumours.

Aside from the obvious daemon roadblocks on the way there, there wasn’t much of an HQ left at all. The buildings that once stood in the miniscule town were nothing but scraps of wood, shadows of former structures that once housed convenience stores that sold medicine and equipment to weary travelers. However, on the far side of the compound was something that stood out from the rest of the area.

A small, rundown building stood on its own inside a large secluded plot of land, surrounded by a tall chain link fence lined with barbed wire. Within the confines of the fenced area were piles and piles of junk; scraps of metal from former cars, cardboard boxes, broken and rotting wood, furniture in shambles, large aluminum barrels containing nothing or something. Fastened to the fence were lines of rope woven through bundles of tin cans - a security system of sorts, designed to make noise if rattled. A gate stood at the front, decorated with multiple types of locks accessible only from the other side. Hanging on a pole beside it was a bell, a chain parallel to it. On the other side of the gate was a rocky pathway leading up to the building’s entrance. Upon first glance, it was difficult to tell if there was anyone even around, but the telltale glimmer of a light in the window told another story.

“This must be it,” Ignis said. His eyes were downcast, studying Prompto’s phone in his hand. On the screen was the program Prompto had attached to the one he’d coded, Moogle Maps, where that pulsing blue dot that signified Seven’s location was the star of the show. “We’re literally right on the doorstep of the coordinates. Seven must be inside that building.”

“I dunno, Ig,” Gladiolus murmured. “Y’know that ‘bad feeling’ Noct mentioned before? Well, this is pretty much that, personified in building form.”

“I feel very much the same,” Ignis admitted. “However… I feel that even still… we must try. We have come this far. It would be a waste to turn around now.”

“Yeah… I agree. So whaddya make of all this? Place is a dump.”

“What I see is an area of refuge. It’s really not much different from other places we’ve passed by before. The only obvious difference is that it is a single standing structure instead of multiple, with no community to support it and to build up a full fledged settlement with it as its core.”

“There’s a light in that window. I’m not going crazy, right?”

“For once, no. I see it too. So unless this building is set atop a haven, there must be someone inside.”

Gladiolus hummed. “All right. So we’re gonna do this, then?”

“Yes,” Ignis replied curtly.

Gladiolus sighed. “Okay. I’ll do the honours.”

Gladiolus stepped up to the chain attached to the bell at the fence’s gate. He took a breath before he reached for it, giving it a quick tug and nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound that followed. The large bell rang, a bellowing, shrill sound that echoed off of the nearby trees and made the hair on their arms stand on end.

Taking a step back over to Ignis’ side, Gladiolus stood nervously. Together, the two of them waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Do you suppose there is no one there after all?” Ignis wondered aloud.

“No clue, Ig,” Gladiolus replied. “I could give it another ring, but that shit’s unnverving. Might call every daemon in the area, too.”

Before they could discuss further, they heard the slow creak of a door hinge. Then came a burst of light, a beam shining from the doorway of the building. And finally, there came the sound of footsteps down the stoney path that led to the gate.

Ignis held his breath.

“Who goes there?” came an unfamiliar voice. It was laced with a country accent, similar to most citizens who lived outside of Insomnia and Niflheim.

To Ignis’ surprise, Gladiolus spoke before he could.

“Name’s Gladiolus,” he said firmly, loud and clear to assert his presence. “This here’s Ignis. We don’t mean any trouble. We were passing through and wondered if you’d be able to give us a hand.”

“Gladiolus,” the voice repeated. The footsteps ceased, just a few feet away from the gate. The flashlight’s beam, formerly shining along the ground as the person walked over, rose to illuminate Ignis and Gladiolus. “You Clarus’ boy?”

“Who’s askin’?” Gladiolus replied suspiciously.

The footsteps continued until the stranger had come right up to the gate. The light was enough to illuminate his face, along with Ignis and Gladiolus’.

“Dave Auburnbrie,” the man continued. He smiled, features visible as he fished out a wad of keys on a ring from his pocket and began to unlock the fence. He was an older gentleman, with a high hairline and laugh lines to match. “You might not remember me. Last time I saw you and your folks was a while back. You’d stopped by as a family for Hunter’s Fes a long time ago.”

“Wait a sec… Dave. Right. I remember you,” Gladiolus murmured. “You’re a friend of my pop’s. You used to have a dog, right?”

“That’s right. Your sister kept ‘im right busy by tossin’ that ball around for him for hours. Good dog. Good kid, too. Hard for me to forget a family of flowers.” Dave chuckled as he undid the final lock on the gate, pushing it open so he could step outside of the compound. “Nice to see you again, Gladiolus. And it’s nice to meet you, ah…”

“Ignis Scientia,” Ignis replied. He offered his hand, which Dave took promptly for a polite shake. “It’s very nice to meet you as well. I do apologize for disturbing you at this hour.”

“Oh, no, it ain’t no trouble at all,” Dave replied. “Just been up tinkerin’ and such for the last little while. Besides, anyone affiliated with the Hunters Org is welcome here anytime, especially an Amicitia. What can I do ya for?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Ignis continued. “But if I may be to the point, I would like to ask you if---”

Right then, there came the sound of another pair of hurried footsteps down the path, heavy boots clomping against rubble and dirt. Before Ignis could continue his thought, he was met with a pair of eager arms that squeezed his middle so hard he felt he may burst.

“It’s you!” a familiar voice cried. “It’s really you!”

The voice made Ignis’ blood run cold.

“Who---” Ignis’ voice strained, wriggling in the stranger’s grasp. “What is---”

“Ignis!” the voice chirped. Arms tightened, and briefly, Ignis caught sight of features in the flashlight’s fray.

Blond hair peeked out from beneath a stocking cap.

Blue-violet eyes, glimmering in a digital shine.

“We can’t believe it, but you’re here,” the voice cooed happily. Ignis felt himself rock in the stranger’s grasp, unable to break away. “You’re really here!”

“Come now,” Dave scolded. “Let ‘im go. You’re gonna cause the poor lad to right pop if you’re not careful.”

“You’re like, way taller than we thought,” the voice continued. “Than _he_ said! But you’re just as _awesome_ and—-“

“Let the poor lad _go_ already,” Dave reiterated.

“Oh. Sorry,” the voice said bashfully.

The arms loosened their hold, freeing Ignis for the time being.

Ignis’ heart stopped at the full sight.

He knew this person who now stood in front of him. He knew this person very well. It was as if he were staring at an apparition, the very embodiment of the one he missed the most, like his mind had sculpted a vision of his innermost desires.

The same hair.

The same nose.

The same lips.

The same chin.

The same eyes.

The same voice, perfect in both pitch and inflection.

And yet, everything was wrong.

“Is Prompto here? Is he okay?” the boy pleaded, reaching for Ignis’ hands. “ _Please_ tell us he’s okay!”

All it took was one more glance to give way to a very important detail.

“Ignis?” the boy asked innocently. “You… are Ignis, right?”

The absence of freckles on this apparition’s face made it all too apparent.

This wasn’t his Prompto.

This was...

“Seven?” Ignis whispered.

≈

“As you can guess from the state of this place, I’m a tinkerer,” Dave said, walking out of the makeshift kitchen with two mugs of coffee in his hands. “Family’s in the hunter’s biz, but a while back I lived in Niflheim for a few years. Worked there, too. Got myself an interest in machinery. Few years ago, during a scavenger run some former towns over, I found somethin’ that caught my eye.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” Ignis asked, taking one of the mugs from Dave. At his side on a couch that had seen better days sat Gladiolus, and on the other, an overeager stranger who wore Prompto’s face.

“Why duncha take a guess?” Dave mused, gesturing to Seven. “Found myself an android.”

“That’s us!” Seven announced proudly. He was practically bouncing in his seat, unable to keep his eyes off of Ignis. The boy, bundled up in a black knitted cap and an oversized zip-up hoodie, couldn't sit still, his well-worn sneakers squeaking against the floor boards each time he moved. Ignis could practically feel his digital gaze boring into the side of his head, but he dared not meet it. He wasn't sure if his nerves could handle the sight of him right now.

“Only thing was, at the time the poor thing was non-functional,” Dave continued, taking a seat in the recliner across from his guests. “Had some wires askew, some damaged parts. Couldn’t get ‘im up and runnin’ - he needed extensive repairs. Despite it all, though, I managed to get his core functionin’ again, but only partially. His processor up in his noggin was workin’ just fine, but everything else, not so much. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, nothing. So I got his ‘brain’ back online and he just sat there like a lifeless puppet for years. These androids are pretty rare, y’know? Only thirteen of ‘em in all of Eos. Or so they say.”

“I see. Then what?” Ignis asked.

“Little bit ago some travelers passed through. They were scavengers, too. Got a lot of spare junk. Lots of junk they didn’t even know what it was. So I take a look and what do I find? Android parts. Bits and pieces. To the average person they would have just been miscellaneous scraps, but I knew from a glance they were what I was missin’. Spark plug and a near mint condition regulator pump. Couldn’t believe my eyes. They offered ‘em up for cheap, too. Then, I set to work.”

“And ta-daaaaah,” Seven chimed in, raising his arms in the air and very nearly socking Ignis in the face in the process. “Dave repaired us!”

“Yep. I repaired ‘im,” Dave said fondly. “He literally came to life right in front of me. It was amazing. Like some kinda fairy tale.”

“Prompto told us about the tale of Pinocchio once,” Seven added, lowering his arms once more. In a brief flash, Ignis caught sight of the barcode on his wrist, etched into his skin in the same spot as Prompto's was. “We’re like a ‘real boy’.”

“I guess you are.” Dave smirked. “So. This here boy, Prompto--”

“We _told you_ ,” the android grumbled, “call us ‘Seven’.”

“Sorry,” Dave continued, “ _Seven_ , suddenly started piping up about a brother. Somethin’ tells me you folks know something about that.”

“That’s right,” Gladiolus replied. “Got ourselves an android, too. We found him back at the Argentum Aquatic Centre not far from Insomnia. He was there all alone, still functioning.”

“He didn’t need any repairs at all?” Dave asked.

“No. Didn’t even know he was an android at first.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Dave leaned back in his seat. “You came across the find of the decade, folks. Here I thought I was the only one with a functioning Argentum bot left in the country.”

“I had my doubts that there were others still around as well, but when Prompto picked up the signal that led us here, I opened my mind to other possibilities,” said Ignis.

“So if he was still functioning like normal, then how’d you get ‘im out of the building?” asked Dave. “To my understandin’ the bots have very strict coding on what they can and can’t do.”

“Indeed. It’s a bit of a long story, but we were able to bypass his programming and bring him along with us. I imagine it was the same with Seven as well?”  Upon saying his name, the bot at Ignis’ side slid his arms around Ignis’ and hugged it close. Ignis’ first instinct was to pull away, but he was trapped and let it slide for the time being.

“Kinda. As I said, he was in a bad state when I found ‘im. Had to do a lot of reprogramming. He’s still running his default A.I. program, but a lot of his memory banks were wiped, including the task program the Argentum bots are uniquely installed with. So he’s like a weird jumble of his old customer service data and the new data he’s building himself thanks to his A.I. program.”

“So were you required to program a new ‘directive’ for him to follow?” Ignis asked curiously.

“I gave him a basic one of ‘help Dave out with tasks around the house’ so right now he’s kinda like my maid. Not much different from the leftover aquarium programming, so he was able to get into that flow real quick.”

“We love washing dishes,” Seven chirped. “Dave is really messy.”

“Am not, ya brat,” Dave chuckled. “So what about you? Where’s your bot?”

“Unfortunately, it seems an unknown error occurred and he suddenly ceased to function. We’ve tried everything we could possibly think of, but nothing has worked thus far. Our last option, our only lead, was to follow the coordinates that led to Seven’s signal, in hopes that we would find some answers.”

“Hmm. I see.” Dave tapped his foot absently. “Well, ya certainly came to the right place, but I’m afraid I may not have the answers you seek. These bots, as you know, are really advanced. It took me a very long time to get Seven here working.”

“I apologize, Dave. I know it is asking a lot--” Ignis began.

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. I'd be more than happy to take a look at your bot. But ya gotta understand that this isn't something that’ll be solved overnight.”

“That’s fine,” Ignis answered quickly. “We are well aware of the complexity.”

“I’ve got some spare bits here, but depending on the problem, I may not have the all the parts I need.”

“I understand. We will do what we can to track down any materials you require.”

“And… I hate to say it but... A job like this is gonna be a time consuming process,” Dave murmured.

“We’ll pay,” Ignis said.

“A _very_ time consuming process,” Dave reiterated.

“We’ll pay as much as you want,” came Gladiolus’ voice, to Ignis’ surprise. “As long as you can get him back up and running again, we’ll pay you whatever you want for supplies and labour.”

“All right, my friends,” Dave said cheerfully, offering his hand for a shake. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

≈

After Gladiolus carried the limp Prompto from the car to the shack, Dave took a quick look at him to see if he could diagnose his condition at a glance. He deemed him to be in perfect condition, narrowing the problem to be internal, likely a wiring issue from his regulator pump to his core. Dave jotted down some items he would need to diagnose the problem further, and after exchanging phone numbers and money, they were all set to go.

“I'll give ya a ring if anything comes up,” said Dave, leaning against the front door frame, “and if he sparks back to life ‘fore schedule, you'll be the first to know.”

“Thank you very much for your help,” Ignis replied.

“For the King and his entourage and an old family friend? Anything. We’ll take care of your bot for ya. Soon he’ll be as good as new.”

“We really do appreciate it, Dave,” Gladiolus said. “Where’d you say the nearest haven was again?”

“About four miles thattaway,” Dave replied with a point to the east. “You'll have to do a bit of searchin’, as it's tucked in real good between some trees, but I believe some hunters marked up the area for ease of findin’. You folks look like you're well seasoned out there, so it'll be easy for ya.”

Ignis peered around Dave in the doorway, his nerves rising all over again at the sight of the ‘sleeping’ Prompto. The android lay on the couch, body as stiff as a board and lifeless eyes staring straight up at the ceiling above. Ignis wasn't without his reservations about this whole arrangement; he'd prefer to stay, but lack of space and resources made it difficult for accommodations. And with Noctis under the weather, they really didn't have much of a choice in the matter but to lodge separately.

He was loathed to leave him behind, but if he were to have any hope of hearing Prompto’s voice again, he would have to persevere.

He stole one last glance over his shoulder, an almost wistful sigh escaping him before Ignis took a step off Dave’s porch with Gladiolus.

_Goodbye for now, Prompto._

≈

Back on the porch, Dave and the active android stood side by side, watching as their surprise guests returned from whence they came in the darkness, the roar of the car engine a soft rumble as the distance rolled out between them.

“Well, that's that,” Dave remarked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe once more. ”Think that’ll keep ‘em busy for a bit?”

The android shrugged, rubbing at his nose. “Maybe,” he said. “Long enough for you to get what you need, at least. We’ll deal with the nitty-gritty later. Who cares about details, right?”

“Details are important, but eh, yer right. No time to stop and smell the flowers. Time’s a-wastin’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the bot replied dismissively, waving his hand.

“Let’s make our way downstairs with ‘im then, _Thirteen_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank [Peach_Pit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Peach_Pit/pseuds/Peach_Pit) and [Godspoison](http://godspoison.tumblr.com) for their ever-present support, brainstorming sessions, editing and generally for putting up with me during this whole journey. [Besin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besin), for their encouragement, editing and believing in me that I could do this from the very beginning. And of course the lovely [Breotch](http://breotch.tumblr.com), whose sweetness, support and friendship will always have my never-ending gratitude.
> 
> My Tumblrs:  
> [caseofthestolenspecs (FFXV)](http://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com)  
> [saturnvalleycoffee (Misc/main)](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com)
> 
> My Twitters:  
> [moonkissedstars (FFXV)](https://twitter.com/moonkissedstars)  
> [SongOfMarbule (main)](https://twitter.com/SongOfMarbule)


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